


And It Leaves Us

by midnightfeast



Series: To plead with Time [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, I never want to give away to much, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 37,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightfeast/pseuds/midnightfeast
Summary: “Oh, you can also relay my admiration. His insults certainly are creative, some may call it a touch of genius.”He turned a page in his still open file and pulled out a lined paper with finely written phrases that he slid to Madara. “I collected his… most accomplished concoctions.”Or: Madara is called to a teacher-parent talk about Izuna's open aggression towards his new chemistry teacher Tobirama Senju
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Touka/Uchiha Izuna
Series: To plead with Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011528
Comments: 173
Kudos: 659





	1. Deep Blue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey:)
> 
> Well... look at me not doing the work I should be doing and not editing the work I should be editing, but instead I found this from one of my quarentine writing binges...
> 
> This will maybe have a follow up... depends on how much you liked it thus far, because what I had in mind is not actually written yet...

Something, Madara was not anticipating, was the cafeteria lady’s judgemental stare and her snarky voice. “If you’re a student, you can forget about that dirty caffeine water right now!” 

He did not even look like a minor, she was just taking the piss. 

In fact, he had been told several times, that the stress induced dark circles under his eyes and tousled hair make him look like his father’s not so much younger twin.

He would have brewed it himself. 

Even taken a detour to the shitty coffee machine by the train station, but he was supposed to meet Mr. Senju in ten minutes and barely had time to even find the room.

So he snorted and opened his bag to fetch out his wallet. “Thank you for your concern.” 

He showed her his university ID and because she was a nosy bitch she looked at his driver’s license too. (Coffee, for fucks sake not alcohol, he was trying to buy.)

The lady handed him a cup, not even asked if he wanted creamer or sugar, and he dropped her a dollar. 

“May I ask what a law student is doing in a school cafeteria, unsupervised and without a visitor's-ID?” sayed a deep voice behind him right as Madara was trying to take a careful sip. 

If Madara hadn’t grown up with Izuna, who snuck around and scared everyone 24/7, he would have jumped. Now, he merely turned his head to stare at the stranger in line and congratulated himself for his ability to keep a calm exterior. 

The man in front of him was painfully attractive and mere inches taller than Madara himself. 

His blood red eyes openly mustered Madara and therefore he himself felt free to stare a second longer than might have been polite. He had only ever seen one person with albinism and it had been a preschool aged girl in that holiday resort his parents used to drag them to. “I am here to meet my younger brother’s teacher.”

“No one schedules a meeting in the cafeteria, so allow me to express my doubts.”

“The meeting is in one of the class rooms, Mr….” He stared at the man’s nametag that dangled from his belt and nearly choked on the sip of coffee he was trying to drink. 

“Senju.” The other man offered as Madara took too long to continue and levelled Madara with an even more unnerving stare. “The school’s safety policies state that irrespective of the reason for visiting, guests are supposed to register with the secretariat first.”

Before Madara could regulate his boiling temper, he blurted out, “And what, Mr. Senju, makes you its executive power?” 

Senju’s eyes widened only slightly, but his otherwise blank expression hinted at how surprised he must have been by Madara’s sudden and unprovoked sass. 

Madara had the sudden urge to bite off his tongue. He truly was a hypocrite if he expected Izuna to listen to his pleas to play nice, when he himself talked back to Mr. Senju at the first chance he got.

Which was exactly why he stirred into milder language territory. “I am sorry, please forget that.” 

This was as good a time as any other to use his mitigation skills, to pamper up the truth into something more darling.

“Honestly, it was not my intention to offend you or be as difficult as my brother surely is. I was hoping for a better introduction, but I have to take what I can get. My name is Madara Uchiha and I am Izuna’s brother.” 

Madara offers his hand in something akin to a peace treaty. “Please excuse my brash behaviour. My day,” my week my month my year, he thought. “…was not the best and really must have taken a toll on my brain-to-mouth-filter.”

Senju left his hand hanging for a little longer than was considered polite, Madara was certain, it was to convey a point, but he took it eventually and gave it a warm, firm shake. 

“This vocation for retort appears to be congenital. I just hope, your language is less colourful than Izuna’s.”

Senju gesticulated towards a door. “We should continue this somewhere more private.” 

And as Madara nodded, Senju led the way through hallways covered in colourful, but awful paintings up a flight of stairs and along windows that oversaw the schoolyard. 

Madara never had been good at small talk and this teacher didn’t seem to mind the silence. 

Only once they reached a door which Mr. Senju unlocked with a clattering keychain did the other strike up the conversation again. “I set up tomorrow’s experiments already so please refrain from touching anything.”

“Unlike my brother, I can control my destructive urges.” 

The look he received for that was a good attempt at masking mild amusement and heavy doubt. 

The class room was bigger than Madara remembered his own chemistry labs in high school to be. Generic posters, a periodic table and something like a neat overview on interesting but curriculum-irrelevant-topics. 

Big brick-tables with sinks and the biggest at the front with a complicated setup of tubes.

Where Senju led him was a normal teacher’s table right at the back. Cabinets with locks, piles of papers and letters, a plant that was surprisingly not fake and everything very organised. “Please have a seat. Let’s get this over with as fast as we can.”

Senju sat behind the table and opened a file, Madara sat in front on a too small, too hard wooden chair that provoked heavy flashbacks.

“First of, my intention is not to complain about Izuna’s behaviour.” Before he could open his mouth, Senju looked up, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face in a clear sign of exasperation. “Thus far, I am the only one he concentrates his anger towards and I have better things to worry about than an agitated teen, but not everyone will be willing to bear his insults. I told him so on several occasions, which he did not take well.” 

Madara sighs. 

He is too young for this. “I wish I could say that I am sorry on his behalf, but I am not a liar and he is rather stoic.”

“That I have noticed.” 

His little brother, the flirty charmer with quick wit would usually win people (especially teachers) over without even trying. However, since the start of the new school year two months ago, Izuna had gotten into a lot of trouble and it mostly involved his new chemistry teacher. 

Madara had had to listen to hours and days of Izuna’s whining and Kagami had begun to pick up on the bad language. “He dislikes you quite a lot and I am unsure why. Until recently he was a model student.”

Senju did not look bothered by any of that. His eyes barely deviated from Madara and they were openly relaxed yet curios. “Some students had problems adjusting to someone like me as someone to be treated respectfully.” 

That surely was an odd statement to make so casually. “However no one quit as intense as your brother. As for the reason, maybe it is because the difference in age is less than the normal difference in age between a teacher and a student or my unusual appearance.” 

That was something Madara could not believe for several reasons. “As many flaws as Izuna has, being superficial has never been one of them. And for the difference in age…”

Tobirama Senju held himself with the same resolve and grace Madara only knew from people thrice his presumably young age. His gaze was calm and not afraid to meet another with an easy spark of amusement that should not go with his overall composure, but did. 

At least Senju’s serenity, which was not unlike their mother’s, Izuna should have valued. 

But here they were, because Izuna apparently hated every last cell component of this man. 

However, Madara himself had had a phase of uncertainty that he had met with a streak of trying behaviour towards all sorts of authorities. 

His father’s stern talk and a set of embarrassing Emails his mother had him write, in which he had to apologise for all the wrongs she deemed him guilty of, he had recognised and accepted his boundaries.

“…he accepts my rules well enough.” Not sure, if Mr. Senju was aware of their situation at home, Madara did not elaborate any further. 

When the accident happened, he had had informed Izuna’s and Kagami’s school, of course. 

Not only to get them the early holiday they all certainly needed to compose themselves and start a complex healing process, but also to be sure the safety net his brothers needed would extend further than their property line. 

Finally, Senju let his eyes roam somewhere aside Madara’s face, but even as he supposedly mustered the trees outside, Madara could still feel the phantom sensation of his gaze. 

He was unsure what to say too.

So he waited, eyed the bottle of water and a stapler, until Senju continued suddenly. “Honestly, his reasoning does not bother me. If he wishes to rattle my self-confidence he needs to reassess his approach significantly.”

“I will pass that along.”

“What is more concerning is that he disobeys my safety instructions for experiment that involve hydrogen peroxide.” Why exactly that provoked half-a-laugh and a smile Madara was unsure of. “Oh, you can also relay my admiration. His insults certainly are creative, some may call it a touch of genius.” 

He turned a page in his still open file and pulled out a lined paper with finely written phrases that he slid to Madara. “I collected his… most accomplished concoctions.” 

He even smirked and Madara hated how good it made him look. 

A single glance at the paper however makes his cheeks heat up for entire different reasons. 

“Oh that little bugger.” Izuna sure can be a calamity if he wishes to be.

Senju let him read through several lines before he cleared his throat and slid him a second page. “You’re aware that there could be consequences worse than a `parent-teacher-talk´ if he directs his insults against someone less collected. The reason I wanted to talk to you personally was to make you aware of the severity of the situation.” 

He was very much aware.

That was the reason he had so readily agreed to the meeting, when the secretary had given him the neat little note alongside the collection-confirmation sheet when he had last picked up Izuna from the office, because he had caused trouble again. 

Senju had asked him for a talk and Madara had sent him the mail the same evening, asking for the first available timeslot. He had expected something way worse than this…

“This is better than most `parent-teacher-talks´ I had to attend so far.”

Senju looked at him weirdly. “Probably the shift in perspective. I take it, this is your first as a `parent´. Well, rest assured it is my first as a `teacher´, too. No offense, but I am looking forward to the day Mrs. Hussle returns to resume her position. By the way, Izuna most certainly should not address Mrs. Hussle with the same attitude.”

That had Madara look up from the paper he was still skimming. “There will be a change in teachers during the year?”

“Oh, I thought you were aware. The situation was explained to the students at the beginning of the year. My position is only temporary. I am merely bridging the weeks till Mrs. Hussle can return.”

“So you’re a teacher’s assistant?”

His expression shifted into a something like mild distaste. Maybe he was offended. “Fortunately no. When a school district is unable to fill open teaching positions with qualified teachers, they advertise for normal graduates to volunteer in exchange for a monetary expression of gratitude. I am not even in the teacher’s education program nor interested in doing so. Actually, I am searching for a doctoral adviser to supervise dissertation in `Chemical investigation into fungal spores and their relation to metal oxide nanoparticles in environmental pollution´.”

Madara is not even sure what to answer to that.

He could have guessed. Then again, he really couldn’t have. Izuna hadn’t told him a single detail about Senju that was not laced in appreciation or hinted that his ordeal as a student of his would end soon.

Something suddenly clicked. “You’re a fellow student at KPC University, that’s how you recognised my faculty by colour on my student’s ID alone.”

A smug grin showed pearly white teeth. “I majored in chemistry. I like teaching children. Not so much these hormonal hazards. No offense, I’m sure Izuna is a `joy to be around at home´.”

Somehow, that had relief spark in his chest.

To find a fellow student attractive was not so much a moral hazard like feeling attraction to a teacher of ones younger brother. “At home, he is allowed to be his bratty self. Within rules of course. Izuna never mentioned that you were a temp.”

Senju actually laughed, had his fingers tap a lazy rhythm on the table and cocked his head with a warm look. “If the frequency at which he exchanges letters with his girlfriend is anything to go by, he probably only remembers half of the topics I lecture about.”

For all the warmth Madara felt before, he froze now. 

Unsure whether he had misheard and therefore where to emphasis his question he could only stare. “His girlfriend?” 

Silence rang between as Senju stalled his fingers too. “Did you not know?” 

He suddenly seemed apprehensive. “I’m sorry. He is so obvious about it in class, I thought it was safe to infer that he was open about it at home, too.”

To be called out like this felt worse because Izuna used to tell him details like this. And it stung to think that Izuna had kept this secret from him because he felt unsafe in trusting Madara with it.

Or maybe they all just needed a little more time to adjust. 

Because he was no longer just his brother. 

And like Izuna, Madara himself had not adjusted to the shift in responsibilities well. Not for the first time he wished that things were different and chided himself right away. 

Thoughts like those were not proactive enough to help them cope. And he should not expect Izuna to behave like things were fine. 

Senju was still watching him with a careful expression, maybe a little worry laced into his frown.

So Madara cleared his throat and covered his eyes by rubbing them with his palm. 

“Good thing he hates you already, because he is going to loathe that I found out, because you told me, Mr. Senju.” That sounded too harsh. “Not that he is in trouble or anything. I am happy that he is rediscovering his sociability, but…”

He would have liked to know before even his teacher at least. 

“Call me Tobirama. We’re both not old enough to warrant formality like that.”

“Madara.”

“Pardon?”

“Call me Madara then.” They held eye contact and it felt less weird than Madara would have thought.

Tobirama struck him as someone above childish grudges and if Madara got Izuna to at least behave, then maybe there would be no further calls from the school secretary. “I assure you, I’ll speak with my brother.” 

“Good. I can promise you that he will not face consequences from my end as long as he does not influence his fellow students to follow his example, but Mrs. Hussle… she is more traditional.”

“Thank you.” Madara’s phone chimed, so he threw Tobirama an apologetic look and took it out to look at the display. It was Kagami. “I’m afraid I have to take this.”

Tobirama waved him off, but Madara had already answered and stood to pace towards the door to speak in private. 

“Hello Kagami, what is it?”

“I wanna come home.” Madara could hear people talking in the back, gentle voices, so he had to be in the teacher’s lounge again. 

And moments like these were hard to manage without any parenting experience. 

Harder even because he felt caught in that limbo between parental figure and big brother, when both positions should nurture completely different needs. “I’ll leave right now, but tell me, did something happen?”

He sniffled some more, his voice sounded teary. “We had a fire alarm.” 

Oh. 

That was certainly not good. 

“I’ll be there in roughly ten minutes. Do you feel save?”

“Yea.” Madara could imagine it perfectly, his small fingers wrapped around the too big phone, his blanket, but wrapped in it by himself to not have anyone else touch him.

“Okay. Do you want to stay on the phone?”

“It’s fine. You’re coming right?” 

Madara’s throat felt like it was closing up. “I’m coming. Ten minutes.”

They ended the call after a short goodbye, but Madara needed a second to stare at the screen and collect himself. 

He had felt old before. Now his bones ached like they were ancient. 

Five months were not enough to get other the loss of a family. 

Biologically, Kagami was the youngest son of Madara’s uncle who burnt alongside his wife and two daughters when their car was hit by a transporter with badly secured gas cylinders.

That not even two years later, Madara’s parents, who took Kagami in without a second thought, would be killed in their car on their way home from a weekend trip because of speeding college students was bad luck. 

And during that second accident, Kagami had been in the wrack, miraculously alive and conscious to experience twenty minutes of trauma as Madara’s other siblings bled out next to him.

Madara pulled open the door and found Tobirama sorting through papers that looked suspiciously like graded tests. Madara hoped he did not look as agitated as he felt. “I’m sorry, something important came up and I have to leave.”

If Tobirama noticed, he was polite enough not to remark on it. “Okay, greetings to Izuna.”

“Which he will not like.” 

Tobirama huffed, but smiled sweetly. “And maybe we’ll meet on campus. The coffee at `Leaf and Bean´ is better than the brew they make here.” He nodded towards Madara’s long forgotten cup of coffee. 

It was a testimony to how churning Madara felt right now that he did not jump at the obvious suggestion, but merely rubbed his face. “Yes, sure, maybe we’ll see each other. I really have to go now.”

“Fine, see you Madara.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Tobirama.” 

And then he was already pacing through the hallways and towards his car.

As Madara pulled into the primary school’s parking lot, plenty of students stirred around his car. 

When he went into the building and even more kids ran around him he figured that he had arrived in between periods. Yukiyo Sato, the school's social worker, was waiting for him at the door of the teacher’s lounge, visibly shaken and nervously biting her lips.

“Mr. Uchiha, I’m so sorry.”

He lifted a hand to disrupt her. “No worries, where is he?”

She opened the door and let him enter first.

Kagami was in the extra room reserved for the school’s social service and psychological counsellor. He was huddled under his blanket, locks sticking out, but his face only poked out as he heard Madara’s shoes halt.

Such a small and baby round face should not have red-rimmed eyes like this. Even though Madara himself has never been a physical person he knees in front of him and keeps his arms lose and open. “Hey bug. You want a hug?”

Kagami’s nose was running, but he noded with eager, pleading eyes and Madara leaned forward to pull him into his lap carefully. Somewhere, the blanket loosened and small arms wrap themselves around his neck like a scarf. 

To hold him firm and secure in his arms, rub his back and still feel wetness at his neck while he stood to turn to Mrs. Sato, was a skill he had perfected for Kagami alone.

“It would be best for me to take him home and keep him there for a day or two.”

“Of course. We filled in the report for his psychologist, I’ll just get it for you.” She vanished and Madara used the moment to secure the blanket around Kagami more firmly. She reappeared and handed him a letter, which he took and slid into his jacket’s pocket.

In moments like these, Madara was thankful that the schools was only a five minute walk away from their home. Kagami was small and he stronger than most, but the day was warm and people always threw them weird looks when he carried him home like this. 

When his parents died, it had been the easiest decision for him to leave the dorm and move back home. 

The police, the attorneys, the judge, everyone had asked him to retell the happenings and while at first it had been a fuzzy memory, by now Madara remembered crystal clear. 

That night Izuna had called, because their parents and siblings had not come home from a weekend trip that he had not gone on because he had had a tennis tournament. Madara had told him that they were probably stuck in traffic, but he had left the dorm to drive to his parents’ house and sleep over to calm him anyway. 

He would be grateful for that spark of protective instinct that had driven him home till the day he died. Because he was home, it was him who answered the door in the middle of the night to two police officer who brought him the worst news of his life thus far. 

How, within the same car accident, his parents and three younger brothers could die and Kagami come out alive, but with broken bones and mental anguish, was beyond his understanding. 

Well, it was left to Madara to pick up the pieces. 

The legal and administrative horror of sudden death was something he had been as badly prepared for as for the weight of grief alongside. For someone that had never done taxes, to be confronted with all aspects of a full functioning adult’s life had him age decades within the first month alone. 

Just as easily decided but agonising in its execution was the legal battle to keep Izuna and Kagami. 

As a grieving 23 year old, to obtain custody of a mourning 15 year old teenager and a traumatised second grader was something few wanted him to do. And sadly, then and now, he could understand their concerns.

But till this day there was little he feared more than to lose his remaining brothers too, even if only to a foster home. And after a legally challenging and mentally draining couple of months, here they were somewhat functioning in their new roles.

Somewhat, he reminded himself, because Madara had had a whole childhood with his parents. His parents’ death had been hard for him to comprehend, but he had already cut the cord years ago to move to university and start a life of his own. 

Izuna had been still closely entangled with their parents and siblings so the loss probably felt less like a clean cut and more like painful rip. 

For Kagami… well, he had had separation anxiety before this second accident, but now he slept with either Madara or Izuna every night. He only went to school, because his closest friends were there and the different therapists did a fantastic job helping him cope. 

That he had a panic attack whenever someone attempted to put him in a car was understandable. 

That every siren or ambulance or fire truck made him feel like dying again was understandable too.

Madara had fought with Izuna only once since their new arrangement was made. It also was the only conflict so far after which Madara had put his newly grown parental foot down and enrolled Izuna for therapy despite his reluctance. That he was now on first name basis with `Ben´ and happily spilled him all the tea twice a week had eased some of the guilt Madara felt for being as authoritarian as he had been.

When they came home, Madara prepared something akin to his grandmother’s noodle-vegetable casserole. 

Normally, Izuna was the one to cook, but he was not home from tennis practice yet. 

He told Madara that he actually found cooking relaxing and it meant that they ate fresh meals most evenings and weekends. Izuna was also the one that picked Kagami up from school as Madara’s lectures were scheduled right around that time.

Madara made breakfast and prepared snacks for Izuna and Kagami to take to school, because both were horrible morning people. 

He bought all the groceries and had implemented a plan to distribute most household chores fairly among the three of them and to his utter surprise, both Kagami and Izuna only ever gave minimal resistance. 

He managed all administrative and legal problems too, but he made the painful effort to explain most of it to Izuna as well. Just in case, he told himself. And these were thoughts he did not want to have, but if he had learned something for his own life, it was preferable to lower the inconveniences to those that could be left behind and make the burden of loss more bearable. Should he pass next, at least Izuna would be better prepared.

Money, at least, would never be a problem. Their parents bank accounts had been handsome. Their life insurance more than enough on top.

Kagami clung to his side, but was happy to be distracted with a child-safe grater and a piece of parmesan. Right as he pushed the pan in the oven, keys rattled in the front door and Kagami scattered around the table to greet Izuna at the front door.

They’d have about fifty minutes till the dish would be done, so Kagami agreed to get his homework and start it now and on his own too, because...

“Izuna, get your…” sorry ass, he wanted to continue, but a look to Kagami who was gleefully colouring in his homework sheets, told Madara exactly why this would be a bad idea. “…sweet sugar bottom into my office. We need to talk.”

Izuna looked slightly amused and wildly horrified, yet he surely must have anticipated this reaction and as soon as the door closed behind them he started his string of excuses, but Madara cut it short with a look and a snort. “He showed me the list.”

Izuna seemed unsure, but he sat down on the armchair in the corner as Madara sat on the table. “Which list?”

“Of insults. Quite savage, the lot. If under different circumstances I would have complimented…”

He was rudely interrupted. “My creative endowment?”

“Tobirama’s restrain, because I sure as hell would have strangled you thrice for any of those remarks.”

Izuna looks even more horrified, but for entirely the wrong reasons apparently. “You’re on first-name basis with the devil? He is my teacher, Mads, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

And he snorted again. “He is not you’re teacher. I’ll always have your back, but not for calling your superiors names when it’s not even justified.”

Out of all things, Izuna had never questioned his sincerity when it came to his loyalty, because that was one thing he had made clear by actions more than once and had to affirm in a variety of wordings in court for several weeks to keep him by his side. 

“What do you mean, he’s not my teacher?”

“He is a temporary placeholder, so you’ll only have to endure him for a couple more weeks. Tobirama assured me that you would have known if you had listened at any point during your first lesson. He said, you were quite occupied with that girlfriend of yours.”

Izuna lost all his colour and froze. He scrambled for words. “I swear, I wanted to tell you!" Madara wanted to say something but Izuna had already gotten himself in some kind of mental frenzy. “That hellborn trash-eating boar told you…”

Madara finally could pitch in. “It’s fine. I’m not actually mad with you for keeping secrets, especially if they involve your love life.” 

Izuna shimmied deeper into the cushions, clearly caught between an angry snarl and a heartfelt confession of sorts, but Madara lifted his hand to have him halt his thought and listen. “I am, however, quite mad about the lack of human decency. Your insults are very offensive and just because he is nice enough to talk to us first does not mean that anyone else would not sue you for IIED.”

Izuna pulled his face into an expression of distaste. “Were they really that bad?”

“You called him a ` bleached arthritic skunk´ in front of 30 teenagers.” Still, Izuna seemed not swayed to believe Madara. “Well, if you ever call me `broom-spined thwart with a refractory period of a gaffer´ I’ll have you hung from our front porch.”

That at least evoked a snort out of him. “Ok, I’ll try to be better.”

“He is not your teacher.” Madara repeated. “So he’ll be gone in a couple of weeks. Play nice and stick it out if you really dislike him that much.”

Izuna sighed and stared at his feet, so Madara took the chance to stand, open the door and throw a glance in the kitchen where Kagami was still dutifully filling in a questionnaire. 

When he closed the door behind himself once more, Izuna had slouched over the side of the armchair and swept the floor with his long hair. “I never thought I’d hear you say something so non-confrontational.”

Madara moved towards him. “There are times and places to confront your authorities, but disobeying the safety instructions of any experiment that involves hydrogen peroxide are not it.” 

Izuna sighed and sounded sarcastically pained. “He had to tell you everything, didn’t he? And I hate it when you’re right.” That certainly must have hurt to admit, but Izuna had always been good with choosing his fights. “Thank you for being so… understanding.”

“Did you think I was going to cut your hair and kick your knees? I could ground you if you really wanted to face consequences.”

Now he looked mildly weirded out. “God, no. Actually, I had plans for tonight…” Something about the way his cheeks redden and his eyes avoid Madara’s gaze is telling enough.

“You can bring her over. I’ll keep Kagami out of your way.”

They went across the hall and Kagami was still painting. He greeted them like long lost travellers and Izuna was nice enough to sit down and help him figure out some of the more `complicated´ math questions.

When Madara returned from the bathroom, he inform him that `Toka´ would, in fact, be coming over soon and he expected everyone to be on their best behaviour. 

They ate and Madara did not pester with any more questions, which in turn made Izuna comfortable enough to tell him all the details. 

So Madara found himself putting away dirty dishes into the washing machine to Izuna’s constant stream of information about the movie he wanted to watch with her and that book she was reading and how he was planning to take her to the lake next Sunday.

Right, Izuna had once again started to meet up with his friends as he used to before and it brought a feeling Madara had never known. 

He was pleased to see his brother enjoy himself but the fear of `something´ had him nervously work through nights and days when Izuna was out and about. Of course, he did not say anything to Izuna, because it was not his place to hinder his brother’s healing. 

And Izuna’s trust, which Madara had earned over the years, was something he would not risk by being a mistrusting brother-hen. 

Also, no matter how bad his behaviour was during his chemistry lessons, Izuna had never antagonised Madara’s newly implemented rules: tell me where you’re heading, be home before breakfast and do nothing stupid (which implied all variations of illegal, unhealthy, destructive, and dangerous). 

The unsaid guidelines (you can always call me, tell me, ask me, and rely on me) were also used fairly often. 

He had always told Madara a lot. (Sometimes more than he wanted to know.) And most of it was fairly innocent behaviour by a slightly nerdy teenager, but even the not so innocent things were nothing to throw a tantrum about. 

Why he had not mentioned Toka until now was beyond Madara, but Izuna must have had his reasons and it was not his place to enquire.

They agreed that Madara should not attempt to cook dinner by himself when they had a guest not used to his interesting habit of overusing spices, but much rather order take out. Madara then informed him that he intended to work and supervise Kagami in the backyard so they could have the living room to themselves, but Izuna surprised him by announcing they would work on a presentation in his room.

That was around the time Hiruzen, the next door neighbours' kid, poked over the wooden boards and asked if he could come over to play. 

So Madara opened the front gate and got his books and papers and went into their gated garden where Kagami and Hiruzen were imitating cowboys and throwing sticks on imaginary crocodiles. 

He went and got them all glasses with water and juice too, and some snack cucumbers and carrots. 

Madara was allowed to concentrate for three hours or so before Kagami shrieked and cried to show him some bloody but shallow scratch. 

He cradled his sobbing brother and calmed his upset friend with soft strokes over the boy’s hair and stirred both of them inside to sit in the kitchen. Madara got the first-aid kit and by the time the cut was cleaned the kids were once more giggling.

As soon as the plaster stuck they bolted from the kitchen into the garden again. This was his time to order food which meant that he had to inform Izuna. 

Stumping on the stairs louder than usual to announce his approach was something he had started to do ever since Izuna had decided to shower without taking spare clothes to the bathroom. 

He knocked on his brother’s closed door and spoke through the wood. “I am going to order Indian take away. Any specific wishes?”

As if to prove how utterly decent they were being, Izuna opened the door. 

On the floor in front of his couch sat a brunet girl with a bun and a book Madara recognised from his own English literature lessons, which meant it was ancient. Plenty of sheets and Izuna’s laptop were scattered around her. 

Izuna looked towards her. “Chicken Korma without peas, right?” 

She grinned. “If were getting soft drinks, then orange Fanta please.”

Madara sighed. “Ok, but we ain’t telling the kids.” He stirred his gaze over to Izuna. “You?” 

“Vegetable curry with lamb and coke vanilla. Normal, not zero.”

“Oh, definitely zero. You don’t need a sugar rush.” Izuna would have pouted, but Toka laughed and he smirked. So Madara cleared his throat and took that as his incentive to leave. “I’ll call when it’s ready, but it takes more than an hour.”

Which was the reason he has ordered so soon after lunch. 

That week, Madara did not get another call from the secretary.

That could either mean Izuna had taken his words to heart and behaved or Tobirama had not bothered to exclude him from his lessons.

It meant that when he actually noticed a tuft of white hair sticking out while powerwalking across campus to keep up with Kagami, who was giggling and doing his best to escape with Madara’s book bag, he felt not that guilty when Kagami eventually stopped in his tracks because Tobirama and his impressively wide shoulders blocked his path.

Madara had a chance to drop his hand on Kagami’s shoulder and ask for his bag, all while Tobirama mustered them. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

“How have you been?”

“Better. Whatever you talked to Izuna about, he is certainly less aggressive.”

“Good.”

Then Tobirama, despite a certainly heavy backpack, crouched down and smiled at Kagami, who had clasped onto Madara’s pullover as if his life depended on it. “And you are…?”

Madara did not expect Kagami to answer or acknowledge Tobirama in any way. “Kagami, our youngest brother.”

“You certainly are sweeter than Izuna. Nice to meet you.” Tobirama said and it might have sounded weird, but he smiled so honestly and friendly that Kagami actually blushed and pressed his face into Madara’s stomach. 

“Do you two have somewhere to be?” Then Tobirama smiled, but at Madara and his cheeks heated too. “Otherwise I’d invite you for some coffee and hot chocolate.” At that he looked a little unsure to Madara to see whether sparking Kagami’s hope for such a sugary drink was even okay. 

This was another offer, Madara thought, and he is giving you a nice and easy way out. 

Offer to what exactly, was the only question that him seriously contemplating. 

Madara had been a curious teenager, sure. Had had his fair share of girlfriends and boyfriends, none of them serious enough to last more than half a year. 

At university, he had had only ever had very loose relationships, more like friends with benefits, but since the accident, all of that had halted. He had not even tried to date, had deleted contacts of former friends he could no longer stand to be around. 

The biggest hurdle to overcome aside from his position as custodian for two minors, was the small talk that was involved even when getting to know a one-night stand. 

Every time someone tried to introduce themselves to him, he hoped they would not ask for his family next. The few times people had tried to pick him up had ended sour, because there was no way to stay in the mood when the person you were mentally undressing told you of his orphaned brothers and dead parents.

Well, none of that mattered with Tobirama. He certainly had been made aware of Izuna’s circumstances and by extension, Madara’s. So far, he had been accommodating and easy to talk to, a true sight for sore eyes too and just because he accepted his offer for coffee would not mean anything had to lead anywhere. 

Izuna would kill him for just thinking about it anyway. “I just needed to rent out some books.”

“So…,” Tobirama cocked his head in hesitant hopefulness. 

Madara sighed, but relieved him from the uncertainty with a smirk. “Lead the way, Senju. We don’t have all day.” Then he paused and stroked Kagami’s locks to get his attention. “Bug, is it fine if we drink something in a café?”

That peaked Kagami’s interest. “Do they have cake?” He asked Madara, who shrugged and looked to Tobirama.

“They have chocolate muffins. And a very good strawberry ice crème.”

Well, now Kagami was on board, he freed his face from the fabric and eagerly beamed up at Madara. “Can I have some, please?”

The `Leaf and Bean´ Tobirama led them to was right around the corner. Madara had walked past it several times before, but because he rarely went close to the science buildings, much less behind, he had never sought it out. 

The café beside the Mensa was fine, the coffee shop by the train station too. This one was clean and sleek in a way most student cafes were. Most tables were occupied, laptops and books, papers and pens pilled, but one right by the window in the back was free.

They sat down their things first, Kagami hesitantly unwrapping himself from the jacket it was too warm for. Things like these, blankets and jackets, were his comfort to hide in.

They went to the counter. The student barista obviously recognised Tobirama, wrote his name onto the first cup and asked if he wanted his usual. Then he looked to Madara. 

“Just coffee, please. No cream, no sugar.”

“And can I get a name?” 

Madara wanted to answer, but Kagami had misunderstood and excitedly pulled on his shirt to whisper-scream. “Mads, name it Coco.”

The barista stared, Tobirama too and Madara coughed, but only for a second and then they tried to cover their laughter, while Madara gave the student a nod. “Right, we’ll name it Coco.”

“Coco, the black coffee.” The barista then got a new cup and looked to Kagami, who under all the attention pulled in his head again. “And for you?”

“Hot chocolate and a muffin.” Madara answered dutifully and Kagami loudly whispered. “And strawberry ice.”

“And strawberry ice, please.” Madara repeats for the barista. Which was a lot of sugar for a small child, but this was the most talkative he had seen Kagami around strangers in a while so he did not want to stifle his bravery. 

“And what name for the hot chocolate?”

“Nelly.” Kagami aggressively whispered with so much surety, if an eight year old can look smug, Kagami might just be that.

Tobirama paid despite Madara’s attempt to pitch in. So he had Kagami thank him, which he actually, surprisingly did without even hiding, and Madara thanked him too. 

Maybe, just maybe, this could work out to be something.


	2. Unsteady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks! 
> 
> A sequel to the first chapter (which I sort of promised and hadn't written already).  
> Take a last guess as to why Izuna hates Tobirama, because the mystery is going to be lifted in this chapter:) 
> 
> Thanks for the nice comments and kudos on the first chapter <3

The café, especially the corner Tobirama had placed them in, was pleasantly quiet. Most students were learning and only few people were talking. 

Kagami had leaned himself into Madara’s side, was dissecting his muffin with a small fork and stealing glances at Tobirama from underneath his fringe. 

He sat opposite them stirring in his cup, and so Madara straightened, let go of his own cup and tilted his head. “So, how is your search for a doctoral father coming along?”

Tobirama looked up, huffed a smile and tilted his head in the opposite direction. “I contacted someone. We’re talking through the details.”

“Congratulations.”

He had leaned back a little, took a long sip. “Nothing’s set in stone yet, it is a finicky process, especially because I chose my topic before even approaching someone who’s in the field.” 

“I have to admit, I don’t know shit about any of that.”

Kagami’s head shot up, eyes as big as his plate and Madara noticed his fault. Foul language was not what he usually fell into, but well… so Madara gave him a small smile, a wink and a `finger of silence´ that was there universal signal when something was meant to be kept between them. It had Kagami cuddle into him even more.

As he looked back up, Tobirama was smirking into his cup, but looked up as felt his eyes. “Applying for a doctoral or chemistry?”

“Both.” And then Kagami pulled on his sleeve. He had annihilated his muffin. Just a second ago it had sat on his plate and now his cheeks were full and he was munching.

And sure enough, his chocolate milk was sipped and ice cream spooned, he leaned very close to Madara to whisper in his ear, mouth still full. “Can I go and play?”

There was a playground, more a small area behind a child sized gate, with a couple of books, a plastic house, Lego and some weird figurines and it was close enough to their table so Madara nodded. Kagami’s fists finally released Madara’s pullover that by now was probably stretched enough to fit someone twice his size. 

He vanished with a quick glance to Tobirama, who smiled at him and Kagami blushed and ran. Even though he had been more open in Tobirama’s presence than with any other stranger so far, maybe it was his way to try and get away from their `adult conversational topics´ as fast as possible. 

“Well, it’s not because of a lack of offers that I am still searching.” Tobirama said with as self-assured smile. His eyes glinted with his confidence. The way they held onto his own gaze, Madara was not sure whether he was over-interpreting them as flirtatious.

There was something else. 

And Madara had never counted himself amongst the most observing people. But even he himself had noticed that the level of interest he held for Tobirama was not that of someone looking for a friend. Tobirama was... well, there was no other way to say it... hot. And Madara definitely noticed. 

His heart jumped at the possibility of being flirted with by someone this attractive alone. Traitorous body. “So are professors throwing themselves at you for your darling personality?”

“No, for my proficiency.”

“How modest of you.” And at that Tobirama laughed, eyes squinted with the wideness of his smile and pearly white teeth shining in the gentle light of the sun shining in from the side. “Talking about `darling personality´. How is Izuna?”

Ah, well… “Didn’t you see him this morning? I thought he had chemistry on Tuesday.”

Tobirama gave something as close to an awkward smile as Madara had seen on his face. “Nonetheless, I’d like to know if he is feeling alright. As you can imagine, we hardly talk.”

“As far as I know, he is fine.” That term was situational, of course. In comparison to two months ago, Izuna was better. “You said he has gotten more cooperative during the lessons.”

It was meant to be only a quick glance towards the kids’ corner and Madara was relieved he did look because Kagami was about to climb on top of the plastic house. 

“Kagami! Get down!” He barked, not loud enough to alert the entire café, but the table next to them looked over as he rose.

Kagami froze, on leg lifted to step up and looked over at Madara’s stern look. Madara's hand was beckoning him over and he sheepishly climbed down and shuffled over to their table. 

Five minutes he had not had an eye on him. His blood pressure was already up, his voice betrayed his anger and worry. (It sounded an aweful lot like his father's voice.) “Don’t climb on things that are not supposed to be climbed on. There is not even a soft ground underneath.” 

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad.” 

Great. He really needed to get better at this. Kagami had already pulled in his head under the scolding. Madara could see his bottom lip tremble. His shoulders were rigid, but most suspiciously, he was hiding his eyes and it had red alarm signs flare up in Madara's mind.

A long inhale and he crouched down to get a better look at his face and softly take his much smaller hand. 

“Bug,” he tried again, a bit softer. “I’m not mad, just very worried okay? You don’t want to get hurt and I don’t want you to get hurt, so please don’t do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Mads.” Kagami sniffled, even from this position, his locks nearly covered his eyes, but Madara lifted a hand and gently swiped them away and pulled him into a hug. 

“And I’m sorry for being loud. As I said, I’m not mad, just worried.” His back started to hurt, so he lifted Kagami to keep him close, but shift him in his lap as he sat on the bench again. “How about we both try to learn from this. I might have to raise my voice if something you’re doing is putting you in immediate danger, but aside from that I’ll tell you calmly when something you’re doing worries me and you tell me when something I do scares you, hm?”

“Okay.” Kagami was still sniffling, only now had his voice wavered and at closer inspection, his eyes were wet. 

Worrying that he was able to cry so silently. If Madara did not look close enough, he might have missed it. It was a new sort of worry that in the busy life of his new role he would miss subtle signs and this fear had only recently materialised. 

“Okay.” He looked for a clean napkin, but his own was already covered in coffee stains. Tobirama seemed able to read his mind, because he was already handing him a tissue, which was softer than a napkin anyway. 

He gave him a small smile that hopefully conveyed his thankfulness and then cleaned Kagami’s face from the wetness. His eyes, a shade of brown darker than amber and still too big for his puffy face, stared back at him with open reliance and with the sort of plea Madara had not expected to see until much later in life. 

Kagami’s fingers fastened their grip as Madara put the tissue into his back and he felt Kagami’s nose nuzzle at his chest, so he figured he wanted to stay hidden from the world for a little longer.

People were staring. Discreet at least, but sometimes Madara wondered what they saw when they eyed him. It did not bother him, but for his brothers’ sakes he hoped they’d cease their stares. 

He sighed and smiled at Tobirama apologetically. He was not going to apologies verbally, because Kagami did not need to hear him talk of this as a `tantrum´ or even an `incident´. That was not the sort of guilt he wanted to give him.

To his surprise Tobirama only gave him a smile back, then nodded and resumed as if nothing had happened. “So, what do you need so many books from the library for?”

“Friday noon I'll have an important prep-exam and there is still plenty to look up for that.”

“I have to admit, my knowledge in the art of law-exams is equal to zero.”

“Well...” And then Madara fell into a surprisingly two-sided discussion. The conversation flowed easily. Topics came and went without as much as a hitch.

The only disruption came with a soft tuck at his cothing. “Mads?” He nearly missed Kagami’s voice, because it was muffled against his chest. 

“Yes?”

“I’m thirsty.” 

“Kagami, then you need to move from my lap for a second.” The sound Kagami made at that was pure distaste and so Madara mentally prepared himself to carry fifty pounds of child to the counter to order some water.

It was Tobirama who asked softly. “No, it's okay. I can bring you some water.”

And Kagami nodded.

Barely there, but clearly an answer to Tobirama’s question and Madara nearly lost trust in his senses, because the last time Kagami had communicated with a stranger was when their parents had still been alive.

Nonetheless Madara added. “If that is not a bother for you.” 

“I offered, didn’t I? I would not suggest something I did not want to do.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Madara started looking for his wallet, but Tobirama already stood and waved him off and went to the coffee bar. Despite the line of people waiting for their warm drink, the student barista halted and asked him first.

It took less than thirty seconds for him to return.

“They didn’t have any glasses right now, so I hope you don’t mind drinking your water from this mug.” Tobirama sat down a mug scribbled with molecular drawings and formulas. Kagami actually turned his head enough to see what he was talking about.

“That’s fine, isn’t it?” Madara nudged Kagami gently and Kagami’s curls bobbed with the gentle nod, before mumbling a small `thank you´. 

Then he drank, but kept looking at the design.

“Looks cool, doesn't it?” Tobirama eventually asked and Madara needed a second to realise that he was speaking with Kagami, who gave the smallest nod. “The one by your index is the structure for caffeine. You can find that in coffee.” 

Then Kagami pointed to one by the handle and turned it so Tobirama could see. “That is serotonin. Some people call it a `happy hormon´, but it's function is far more complex than regulation of mood.”

There were even more structures, but Kagami pointed at the most complex one and Tobirama laughed. “Good choice. That one is Oxytocin, sometimes called `love hormon´, but that is romanticisation. It plays a role in social bonding, sure, but it is mostly released during labour and...” Tobirama stopped himself and threw Madara a glance, all of a sudden a bit uneasy. It took Madara a second to piece together why Tobirama would seek him out to explain something to Kagami and then it suddenly clicked. Ah, well, might as well, so he gave him a nod and Tobirama resumed. “And baby making.”

Madara was the one to take Kagami's mug from between his fingers and help him down as he suddenly struggled to get out of his hold. “Maybe it should be called `baby hormon´.”

“Maybe.”

Then Kagami leaned close again. “Can I go play again?” 

Madara sighed, nodded and added. “Okay, nothing dangerous though.” Kagami nodded and left.

Madara kept his eyes lingering on Kagami’s back till he had sat in the kid’s corner and overturned a box of Lego blocks.

Tobirama brought him back as he sighed. “He reminds me a lot of my youngest brother.”

“How so?”

“Itama is a cautious kid, but compassionate. Izuna may know him, he’s in his year group.”

“Interesting. To be honest, I would have taken you to be an only child.”

And at that Tobirama broke into loud laughter, head thrown back and shoulders shaking a bit, but the sound… the sound had Madara’s belly churn in warmth and his heart speeding up. “Oh, tell my how you came to that conclusion.”

“I knew I had a sense of humour, but that wasn’t even a joke.”

“Ah, an only child…” He smiled still, head tilted and cheeky glint in his eyes. Then he took out his phone, tipped through a couple of things and eventually slip it over to Madara to look at the screen. It was a picture. Two ganglier looking adolescents stood to Tobirama’s left and a slightly taller, grinning man with sunglasses to his right. “Three brothers of which I am not even the oldest. Although, my elder brother doesn’t behave age-appropriate. So I guess the role of responsible sibling falls to me.”

They all looked vastly different. If not for the general shape of their faces and noses, Madara wouldn't even have assumed to be related at all. Tobirama stood out with his light skin and white hair, more so because his older brother was sunbrowned and with deep brown hair. Only the youngest, Itama, had a clean looking split between two colours, dark brown and white. He was not sure if he was allowed to ask, but he did so anyway. “Itama is the one with partial albinism?”

A nod and Tobirama swiped to another picture of just Itama with a big grin and big sunglasses. “Piebaldism, he likes it to be called. But a quite unusual presentation in him. Most people affected only have a white forelock, he got half a head.”

“It is possible that Izuna mentioned him once or twice.” 

“Mads?” Kagami had reappeared. 

“Is everything alright?”

Kagami threw Tobirama a quick glance, then he hurried closer and onto the bench to whisper into Madara’s ear. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Right.

Kagami didn’t like going to strange bathrooms on his own.

“Okay. Let’s go.” He turned to Tobirama with another apologising smile. “We’ll be back in a moment.”

When they left the bathroom, Kagami sprinted off towards his corner, but immediately came back, big grin and something behind his back that he pulled in front only when he halted before Madara. 

“I build this.” Kagami showed him a small Lego thing barely longer than ten centimetres.

“Wow, really nice!” As he was often with Kagami’s creative endeavours, he was unsure of what he was looking at here. Aside from an assembly of several blocks in various starkly contrasting colours. “Is it a house without roof?”

Kagami seemed to be appalled by his lack of expertise. “No! It’s a spaceship. Look?” He flapped one plate at the side of the main build. “It got wings.”

“Ah, sorry. I overlooked those. Good use of the primary colours, nice contrasts.”

Kagami smiled under the compliment and then side glanced towards Tobirama. Madara could nearly read his thoughts. “Do you want to come along and show him?” 

His face twisted with the difficult decision, but after some lip biting and side glances, Kagami nodded shyly. 

Then he followed Madara closely and before their table he stood, unsure and a little shy behind Madara’s leg. 

Suddenly he stepped forward and dropped the build on the table in front of Tobirama only to glance up to him from underneath his fringe. 

Nice. Madara groaned inwardly.

He did not explain anything, but before Madara could translate, Tobirama had already inched closer to them and smiled with easy reassurance. “Can I look at it?” 

And Madara lost faith in his eyesight, because Kagami gave a quick nod and drew in his head again as Tobirama reached for the small space ship.

In his hands it looked tiny as he turned it and nodded in something that could only be exaggerated approval. “A nice design. And good use of colour-coding too. Did you build it yourself?”

Madara was unsure what sort of drug he was on because Kagami actually opened his mouth to speak. “Yes, for you.”

“Really? Thank you!”

Kagami’s cheeks were already a little rosy and half his face hidden in his high neck pullover but Madara could see how his eyes gleamed. “I can build you another one.”

“I can’t take them with me unfortunately, the blocks belong to the café,” Kagami nodded, but his shoulders sank a little, “but I’ll take lots of pictures of them, okay?” Tobirama actually took out his phone and set down the small thing to turn it and get a good angle.

“I can hold it.” And Kagami had already picked it from Tobirama’s hands and presented it with a shy smile, but before Tobirama took the picture he looked at Madara.

“Is it okay if I take a picture with him in it?” 

Madara smirked. “Yes, but you better send it to me too.”

Tobirama halted for a second. A bit surprised maybe, maybe uncertain how to answer, but eventually he gave him a small smile, certainly not shy, but guarded. “I’ll need your phone number for that.”

Madara did not even hesitate to answer. “I don’t see a problem with giving it to you.”

“Good.” 

They held their gaze for a second too long, because Kagami grew impatient and started twitching. 

So Tobirama took a picture and showed it to Kagami, who beamed up to him and sprinted back to the playground with a promise to build an even better one next. Then he showed the picture to Madara. 

Madara held out his hand and Tobirama handed him his phone without even questioning it. Madara saved his number and send himself the picture before he handed it back to Tobirama. 

How exactly time passed this fast Madara was unsure about. They talked about everything and anything (aside from Madara's family, because that was a topic to heavy for coffee on a Monday noon) but what he noticed was that it was late afternoon all of a sudden and Izuna had texted him to ask about dinner and their whereabouts. 

So they parted. Even Kagami muttered a `goodbye´.

And if Madara felt lighter and more energised than he had in weeks, possibly months, nobody had to know that a small chime of his phone after they'd left was the reason. A message from Tobirama, wishing them a safe trip back home.

Madara could hear Izuna’s slippers shuffling on the hardwood boards, but he listened into the silence that followed when he stepped on the carpet until Izuna’s head appeared right next to the couch. Kagami was fast asleep covered by blankets on the other couch in their living room. 

There had been an additional pair of shoes and a strange jacket by the front door when they had returned home, so Izuna had company. He kept close look on his brother’s expression as he asked. “Is Toka staying the night?”

Before, Izuna would have asked if that was any of his business, now he just groaned. “Would you mind? She wanted to watch a movie, something-something-Death.”

“Sounds like a banger.” Madara deadpanned and took the cushion that was blocking the space next to him and through it onto the armchair. “Ask her what she’d like for dinner.”

And sure enough, Izuna settled into the space that had been freed, but Madara felt his eyes lingering on his face. “Did something happen while you were out?”

“Why?”

“Your face is doing the thing.” Madara turned his head to frown at him, so Izuna smiled. “You get those happy wrinkles. Dad used to get them too. So spill the news already.”

Well, nice to see that Izuna was so excited about his good mood.

But Madara held no illusion that that would vanish as soon as Izuna heard whom exactly had caused it. He would have to tell him. More importantly, he would have to ask Izuna about what had happened between Tobirama and him. To him, Tobirama appeared like a good person.

He readily admitted when he did not know something, but was not shy to tell of the things he did know for certain. He listened and thought, grew serious when appropriate, but was quick to go along with a joke when it presented itself. And he was so very good with Kagami, because he didn't expect anything from him. He talked to him like his lack of words was nothing special, he acknowledge the small gestures and he was gentle.

To say, it had been the best conversation Madara had had in a long time (possibly ever) would have been an understatement.

But depending on what had happened between him and Izuna, it would not be anything to pursuit still. 

So he'd have to talk to his brother first. “I met someone, we had coffee.”

“Uuuh. Tell me!” Izuna hoped closer, cheeky grin right in Madara’s face. “Handsome, I hope?”

Would Izuna find Tobirama handsome, had there not been a fallout between them? Did not really matter, Madara reasoned. “Very.”

“Good. I hope you got their number.”

“I did. Kagami build him a Lego spaceship.”

Izuna laughed. “Oh, you gotta keep him then if even Kagami approved…”

Not good. Madara smiled, but it felt more forced. He really should tell him. “Izuna-” 

“Ah, here you are. Thought you just wanted to get drinks.” They were disrupted by Toka, who leaned against the door frame. “Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt something, but the movie’s all set up.” 

Her hair was in a high ponytail, the sweater she was wearing was one of Izuna's. Madara knew, because they'd bought it on one of their last family holidays and he had the same in a different colour. 

“Oh, sorry. I’m coming.” Izuna stood, then stretched and turned to look at Madara. “What did you just want to say?”

“Later. Enjoy your movie. You’ll sort yourselves out with dinner?”

“Yeah, Kagami and you can eat without us.” And then Izuna left. His laugh echoed through the hallway and it warmed Madara's heart. Izuna had started to be happy again.

That night, Madara found himself woken by soft fingers poking his cheeks. “Mads. Mads.” Kagami whispered, already a bit teary and it alerted Madara’s half dormant brain to turn on his bedside lamp. 

“Bug, what’s wrong?”

“I saw mommy.” Mommy, to him, was Madara’s mother.

It startled Madara enough to show something on his face that he was relieved that Kagami had already buried his face in his chest. “Where did you see her?”

“On a field and we were running behind her and she didn’t stop.”

“Do you think, you were, perhaps, dreaming?”

Kagami sniffled at his chest. “Are they really not coming back?”

Oh boy. 

One of these delicate tide rope walks between telling the truth and comforting too. Izuna and he had agreed on the most honest approach. They felt it cruel to distort the truth or straight up lie.

“When people say `death´ they mean those gone will not come back. But we can go to their graves tomorrow.”

“Can I bring them my paintings?” Everything Kagami drew, he wanted to show their parents. Some pictures ended on their magnetic fridge, but most where taken with them to the cemetery and added to the collection, a nice folder hidden by the graves in which Kagami sorted his newest presents for them. 

“Sure you can. We’ll laminate them tomorrow, okay? For now we should try to sleep some more.”

Kagami hummed, but his fingers kept twisting the hem of Madara’s tshirt and it was tell-tale enough that he was not ready to fall asleep again. “Do you think they will be mad if I tell them that I took the bouncy ball from the Zoo’s shop?”

Oh, right. Kagami had been on a class trip the other day and had stolen a bouncy ball. No one noticed, but he broke into tears during dinner that same evening, because the guilt of what he had done was heavy. That he was convinced he would have to go to jail for his crime was something Izuna had to talk out of him the entire evening.

Madara had taken him back to the shop the next day and Kagami had to apologise, with words, which had been hard for him, but necessary to learn. He felt better afterwards, but apparently hadn't gotten over it yet completely. At least, Madara was convinced he'd never steal anything else, because this had obviously left an impression.

Going to their parents’ grave was a weird endeavour of comfort and gloominess anyway. Maybe because they all mourned a little differently. A concept that brought Kagami so much comfort was that even though his parents, both sets, could not answer him, they were still able hear him when he talked to them at their graves.

It was more spiritual than Madara tended to be, but there was no harm in having him think of something that was not a lie (maybe not an assured truth either). Kagami behaved always a little different and his mood could randomly drop, but that was fine. Mostly he was his charming, bubbly self. He brought pictures and paintings and little clay figures they created in school. He stuck to Madara or Izuna like gum and when they came home he always requested a juice box. 

Izuna usually stayed quite. He was the one to buy and bring flowers, then busied himself with planting and watering and nurturing them. They had differently coloured blossoms for each of the graves, all in their favourite colours. 

“They wouldn’t be mad, maybe a little disappointed. Important is to try and be better next time. No more taking things that don’t belong to you.”

Madara really made an effort to connect with his emotions ever since their parent’s passing. Not so much for his own benefit but to pose a better example for his brothers who surely didn’t need him to pretend he was already fine. At their grave, he tried to stick with this mentality more than usual, so if his vision blurred, he made sure to at least not hide it from Kagami and Izuna. 

“Mads? Are you asleep already?”

“Mh, no. Just thinking.”

Kagami's finger were attempting to knot his shirt. “Will that man from the café come over soon? Because I want to show him my space shuttle.” His Lego space shuttle, which he had been working on the entire week. His floor looked like a Lego bomb had gone off, his friends (mostly Hiruzen) had helped build something that Madara was sure would become the greatest not-like-a-space-shuttle-looking space shuttle.

“Do you like him?”

Kagami shrugged which for him was equivalent to a screaming `yes´, but his fingers played with the blankets as if he still wanted to say something, but it took a moment to gather up his courage. “Is he your special friend?”

What. “What?”

“Izuna said if you ever were to have a special friend over, I would have to sleep in his bed and not bother you if your door was closed.”

Oh no. Madara’s eyes nearly popped out and he was incredibly grateful that Kagami was hiding at his chest, because the expression he was making was not meant for children’s eyes. He was simultaneously angry, annoyed and moved.

Angry, because Izuna had decided without him how to handle their boyfriend-girlfriend-sleepover-situation with Kagami. Annoyed, because apparently Izuna had done a mediocre job at explaining all of that to Kagami. And moved, because Izuna had at least thought of him while he was making all of this up. 

Still, he would not let him get away with it.

“Bug, with `special friend´ Izuna meant boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Kagami’s face appeared. “Oh.”

Yeah. Oh.

“The man from the café, Tobirama, is neither to me right now. I like him, I might go on a date with him, which is something people do when they are interested in someone romantically.”

“Like mommy and daddy?”

Madara cringed. Why had no one explained this to Kagami so far. “A little. A date is the very start. Some people find out that they don’t really like each other. Some find they do and they might become a couple.”

“And marry?”

“Maybe later.”

He seemed to think hard about something. “So you could marry the man from the café?”

“Bug, marriage comes only after a lot of other things, like a lot of dates and talking and getting to know each other.”

“And love?”

Did they not cover this in schools nowadays? “Ideally. Only once all of that went well, people maybe start thinking about marriage, because it is something that was originally meant to last and is not easily broken.” 

“So could I marry Hiru?”

“Once you’ve become an adult, you can marry whichever adult you want.” 

Kagami made a thoughtful sound, but apparently his curiosity was sated and he fell asleep only minutes later. But now Madara was awake and staring at the wall thinking about this. His life. How he had thought it would unfold and how it had ended up happening. 

The next morning, between cutting up carrots and calling Izuna to get up for the third time, Madara got a message from Tobirama. But then Kagami came into the kitchen missing one sock and freshly washed hair already covered in dust. (He had left him unattended for less than a minute. How?)

So when he bid Izuna farewell, he walked Kagami to school and had to hurry to make it to his first lecture. 

After, some interesting discussions left him with only enough time to spare to check and reply to the message Izuna had send him before his next started and he found himself halfway through lunch when he remembered to answer to Tobirama’s message. 

Tobirama had written: `I enjoyed our talk. If you feel up for it after your exam and are free on Friday night, I’d like to take you out for a drink.´ 

Friday noon, Madara had his important prep-exam which Tobirama had remmebered, but he was free after that.

And boy, had it been a long time since someone that knew of his situation asked him out for a drink and nice conversation. It was hard to deny even to himself that he missed the gist of adult conversation. 

That was why Madara wanted to make sure that that was not the only reason he was so eager to meet Tobirama again. Which he was pretty sure of already. Months had passed ever since he had felt attracted to anyone like this. If ever. 

Tobirama and he were different enough to make talking extremely interesting, yet similar enough to make talking pleasant. 

And they had talked about all sorts of things. From their studies and music and movies to migratory birds and basketball and literature. A weird way through all different topics of conversation and Tobirama was never surprised by a new twist in conversation or a sudden change in perspective. He stirred through arguments and recollections, asked questions and gave his own experience.

Even before, Madara had been particular about the company he kept. He had never been a loner per se, more someone with few, but good contacts he kept. 

That most of his social life, even with people he before would have counted himself close with, ceased with the accident which tremendously complicated his life, had been hardly surprising. Which made actually meeting someone again even more enjoyable. Most people he had been with or dated had been unremarkable. Some he had for a nice drink once in a while, some for studying and some for sex – never any strings attached. That was no longer something he wanted to do, because that was not the unsteady lifestyle he wanted to show Izuna and Kagami. 

Aside, bringing someone home for the night while Kagami still slept in his bed most nights was definitely not acceptable.

But with Tobirama, it already felt different. 

And he still had to talk to Izuna, who hated Tobirama’s guts.

There was no denying that he liked the man, but there was just as little doubt that Izuna held a strong grudge against him. But `why´ was a question that had boggled Madara’s mind ever since he had spoken with Tobirama and had found him to be an excellent conversationalist.

This could not be a simple case of dislike for his character or something going against the grain for Izuna.

Something else must have happened.

And so far, Tobirama either actively withheld it from him or didn’t know.

And Izuna hadn’t budged.

So talking would have to happen. 

Right on cue, there had been another incident with Izuna. His phone rang during his next lesson, right in the middle of an explanation his professor had introduced as `ground-breaking´ and `remarkably relevant for the upcoming prep-exam´.

He went outside as fast as he could and listened to the familiar voice of the secretary. Surely, she could hear him sigh over the speaker. 

She rushed to add. “If you are not able to pick him up right away, he can stay with us in the secretary until 3.30.” 

And he actually considered that possibility for a second. 

Maybe he should let his brother wait just to drive home how embarrassed he was to be called in the middle of his lecture again. It would do little more than make himself feel guilty. “No. No, its fine. I’m coming right away.” 

She thanked him, they disconnect and Madara sent an apologetic glance to his professor as he silently went back into the room to pack his things and leave. 

So far, he had missed more lectures than he actually attended and it was curtesy of his open communication that most of his lecturers were aware that he did not hold grudges against them, but had very little choice in the matter.

The school’s secretary threw him an apologetic glance and waved him over. She slid him the form Madara recognised and loathed. 

He hurried to fill in the blanks. A confirmation that he acknowledged Izuna’s misbehaviour and picked him up, so maybe he should fill one in and copy a bunch to spare him the time loss next time.

As he handed her the sheet, she smiled and waved over towards a room Madara knew well enough by now. “He is next door.”

Madara thanked her, opened the door and closes it behind himself. 

Izuna sat at the far end of the narrow room and had managed to curl in on one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs in front of the window. 

The only acknowledgement Madara got from him was a look and a drawn-out sip from a cup of herbal tea the secretary made him. They stared at one another until Izuna turned back to the window and Madara was left to wonder what interesting mess he was watching.

Something was off.

He could tell from the way Izuna’s shoulders tensed, his fingers twitched around the cup, hot steam hit his face and he didn’t even care. And sure enough, right as Madara walked over, Izuna sighed. “I really didn’t want to do it again, I swear.”

Madara pulled out the second chair opposite Izuna and let himself fall into it. “I know. What happened?” 

Izuna just shrugged, stared into his mug. “I don’t know.”

“Izuna.”

“Fine. Senju took me aside to ask about the upcoming exams.” He sat down the cup with enough force to have a crescendo of droplets spill. “He asked me whether I wanted more time or flexibility on the dates. Don’t know why he thinks I’m incompetent. I guess I got a little agitated.”

“So you called him a `bastard goblin with two left feet´.”

“Not my strongest choice, I know.” And before Madara could say anything, Izuna bulldozed right over what he had prepared to say. “Can we get pizza on the way home?”

“Izuna…”

“Mads, not now.” He gave him a suffering look, lower lip trembling and all. “I feel like someone pressed me through a shredder.”

Izuna didn’t want to talk about it and that was very obvious. Maybe it was embarrassment to have him called in again, but it could also be a residue of anger over being thrown out again. They would have to talk. Eventually.

If not over Izuna’s behaviour then at least about Tobirama.

Madara sighed and stood with an aching back. “Fine. But no garlic sauce.”

“You can be such a killjoy.”

His long and suffering look, Izuna was used to by now, so it had little effect on him. “Grounded for life time, no pocket money until college or cooking duty till you move out. Which one you want?”

Izuna gave him the flattest stare. “Don’t try the toxic-parenting-thing. It makes you look more like a douche than you already are.” 

“Be careful or I’ll tell Domino’s to put peppers on your Pizza.”

“Ouch, you wouldn’t.”

Madara tilted his head. “Only if you smuggle yourself out of the talk I wanted to have with you tonight.” Food usually made his brother more pliable.

Now, Izuna looked away and stared at something outside. Eventually his shoulders sank. “Fine, we’ll talk.” And then he looked at him. “Again. It’s not as if we just had a talk like two weeks ago.”

“Well, ain’t my fault that there is need for a second.” Madara caught a strand of his hair and pulled at it gently. “Is there anything I can do for you? Collect that girlfriend of yours tonight for example?” 

“Toka will be at a family function. But you could allow me to play `Until Dawn´.” That grin, it made Izuna look more like a hyena. 

“Ah, and have both, Kagami AND you, sleep in my bed for the next month? I don’t think so.”

“It’s not that scary.”

“Which you shouldn’t know if you’re just now asking for my allowance to play it.” Izuna, little shit that he was, smirked with mischief. “Tell you what, we’ll play together.”

They both bide the secretary goodbye, for now, and walk through deserted hallways to the parking area. 

Izuna made the call to the pizza place around the corner and they opted to sprint through their local supermarket in the meantime. Izuna wanted soda. Madara felt like they should balance out that junk food with salad for dinner.

They sat at home, just the two of them, on the carpet in front of the couch. A pizza box each in front of them with drinks and napkins around them as the sun had just started peeking through the clouds and lit up the living room. Izuna with his peperoni pizza and Madara with a wild variety of vegetables and ham, but somehow, it felt lacking.

Kagami was still at his psychologist’s office and would be for a while. That already made their house more silent than usual.

But.

And here they sat, just the two of them left of what used to be `Pizza Wednesday´.

Kuro would have ordered pizza scampi. Myo pizza Hawaii just to be difficult. Toga with pizza margarita. Their parents would have refused pizza all together and taken lasagne instead. 

This house was too big for only three people. A month after the accident, Madara had had decided to clear the rooms. All of them, because expecting Izuna to live in a room that he used to share with Toga was akin to torture. 

And to have Kagami stumble into their parents’ room during the night, thinking they might have reappeared, only to find their mattresses cold and their pillows dusted, the last of their scent long gone. That had not been a bearable situation.

After the accident, Izuna had not stepped another step into their room. He had resolved himself to sleeping in the guestroom. It was Madara who entered first to get his brother the things he needed. 

When Madara had opened the door for the first time in weeks, the room had been as Toga and Izuna had left it. A little messy, wardrobe still half open, phone charger still plugged in the wall. It was easy to pretend, if only for a second, that Toga had just left. That he would return. That this was still their room. It wasn’t. And Madara knew as soon as he started taking of the bed’s covers and they smelled of nothing but dust. 

So he had cleared the rooms. Mostly be himself, because Izuna had hardly had the energy to methodically look through things and not be tempted to keep it all.

Madara kept things of them, of course he did. 

A box from each of them, filled with good memories.

Of Toga, they had a box with his pens, paints and sketchbooks. His Nintendo games and console that were filled with weirdly named Pokémon, alongside his trusty comfort-socks and his football team’s tricot. A bottle of his favourite bubble bath waited for a moment when Madara had grown brave enough to open it and smell it for the images it brought back. (“Shut up, Izu, it doesn’t smell like bubblegum!” Toga used to defend it.)

Kuro’s and Myo’s room was more organised. 

Kuro’s favourite sweaters and all his pictures and CDs were in his box. Two books that looked like he had read them a thousand times and a scented candle he had lit once and preserved since then because he’d deemed its smell `too good to burn´. Two plants had survived the month long ignorance, as neither of them had wanted to disturb what he had left. His guilty pleasure, a plush rabbit, he mostly hid in his wardrobe was now in a clothing bag, a gilded nametag with Kuro’s ugly handwriting still bound to its neck and proclaimed proud `Nero is Kuro’s bestest friend´.

Of Myo’s, they kept a towel of the university he would have gone to and his most beloved model sailing-ship. His swim team’s trunks and his sand collection. That one perfume their mother had gifted him and he had only used to piss all of them off by spraying it on long car rides. The scent alone brought back more memories than was good.

To look through and sort out their parents’ bedroom had been the worst. All the drawers he had never before opened (because his parents’ underwear was nothing he wanted to know about) he then had to sort into bags. He found things he didn’t want to find, like a stash of condoms and lube, but also readily prepared gifts for Kuro’s birthday that would have been a week after the accident. 

He thought about throwing them out just like this, but had opened them in the end. 

Kagami stayed in his own room as before.

Izuna moved into the old guestroom.

Madara had gritted his teeth and claimed their parents’ room, because if they did not start using it right away, they would never dare touch it later.

His parents’ office became his office. 

They turned Myo’s and Kuro’s room into a gaming and TV room that only Izuna and Madara had a key to.

Izuna’s and Toga’s room became the new guest room, not that they had had any guests so far.

A hand waved in front of his face and had Madara snap out of his mind right away. Izuna had leaned closer and watched his reaction concerned. “You wanted to talk.” He noted. “And now you’re drifting off, I can tell. You’re not thinking of that secret date of yours, right? Because I don’t wanna be present while you’re having a wet dream.”

Madara scoffed, pulled at Izuna’s hair in embarrassment. “No, I thought about the new layout of our house.”

“Oh.” Yes, oh. Izuna leaned back against the couch and sighed, then his head hit the cushions and he closed his eyes. Light shone in from scattered sun beams and hit strands of his hair splayed around him. “Well, that’s as far from a wet dream as one can get.”

Madara leaned back as well, mimicking Izuna’s position, but he kept his eyes open, mustering the white ceiling. “We’ll have to take Kagami to the graveyard before dinner. His first criminal action has him feeling remorseful.”

“You made him bring it back, didn’t you?”

Madara hummed in affirmation. The pizza was growing cold in front of them, but suddenly their appetite had diminished. “And he cried the entire time. The shopkeeper didn’t know what to do.”

“A cruel person you can be sometimes.” Madara could feel Izuna looking at him so he turned his head to and they stared at one another. 

“Well, I know hold the duty to raise you.” Izuna huffed, but turned to avoid his eyes. “Talking about teaching important life lessons...”

He was disrupted by Izuna and his suffering groan. “If this is about today… I promise I will try harder again. This was only a small misstep and Senju’ll be gone in two weeks. That’ll resolve the issue.”

Ah, well… This was his cue to finally break the news to Izuna. 

Madara stared at his half eaten piece of pizza for far too long that Izuna eventually caught on that something more was going on in his head. “So… are we getting serious here for a moment?” 

A long sigh that he felt in his shoulders and even his back escaped Madara and he rubbed his face in an attempt to hide his awkward expression. “There is a difficult situation I find myself in and I’m going to ask you a question that I’d like you to answer me.” 

If he hadn’t been already, Izuna definitely seemed suspicious now. “…Okay?” He tentatively picked up a piece of scattered peperoni that had fallen off the pizza and took a bite, but chewed slowly as he mustered him.

Well… how to breech this topic…

Madara had thought about several scenarios to bring the problem up, but all seemed inadequate. Izuna was old enough to not need him to be a parent and so he did not want to resume a role of stern parentage. 

But similarly, he needed to know. Not solemnly for the interest he held in Tobirama, but because his fear of disregarding a serious situation was a very plausible possibility. 

It might be nothing, a minor fight between a student and a teacher.

But it could very well be more and Madara had grown more suspicious after he’d gotten to talk to Tobirama and found him entirely pleasant. There had to be something and he did not like the idea of keeping contact to someone that might have had a negative impact on his brother’s life.

So he licked his dry lips in a nervous gesture and cleared his throat, before he decidedly sought firm eye contact with Izuna. “I’d like to know whether your distaste in Tobirama is rooted in something… serious.”

It was like a switch being flipped. Izuna flung the piece he had just picked up into the carton and stared at him angrily, his hair swaying around him from the static rubbed in by the couch’s cushions. “What are you getting at?” 

Great start. “I didn’t mean my words to imply that your feelings of dislike are not serious on their own and I don’t want you to justify yourself, what I meant was…” Madara took a long inhale to force tension out of his shoulders, but the tightness in his jaw did not vanish. “You don’t have to tell me what the reason is, but I need to know whether he hurt you or was improper or something similar.”

Silence prolonged. 

Then Izuna huffed, turned away from him a little and arms around himself. But was it a sign of anger, or to comfort himself… and not knowing for sure rose Madara’s hackles. 

And Izuna sounded agitated, voice shacking involuntarily when he eventually answered. “He didn’t touch me inappropriately or so... if this is what you wanted to know.”

The idea alone had acid rise from his stomach. He hadn’t even really considered it a possibility, but to have it negated by Izuna was only a small comfort. “Okay… well, I mean this in a broader sense anyway. Just… give me a hint towards what happened.”

“You got yourself mixed up in this an awful lot so tell me, why do you want to know now? Didn’t we already breech the topic enough?”

“I met Tobirama Senju on campus, he is a fellow student of mine.” 

“Fine, and?” 

“We had coffee and a pleasant conversation.” 

Izuna’s jaw fell open, his eyes were wide. If not for the tension between them, Madara would have found it comical. 

“You… want to see him again.” Izuna said, but it sounded more like a whisper. 

Matter of fact. 

Izuna left no doubt that he knew that he had come to the right conclusion.

Why was this so complicated? 

Madara sighed and rubbed his face. “I don’t want to go out with him if you tell me he behaved like a dick towards you. But so far you told me nothing and from his behaviour I didn’t get the feeling that he behaved like a criminal, so I’ll need you to be upfront about what’s bothering you with him.”

Izuna jumped up and nearly flipped the table. A finger directed at him accusingly. “Are you serious? What the fuck? Mads! You want to rail Senju?”

Madara stayed seated and looked at Izuna. He was tired. How had they even gotten in this situation? “Did you even listen to what I just said?”

“You want to go out with the decoloured spawn of a demon.”

“Not if he hurt you maliciously as you keep on implying.”

“He is a fucking sociopath.”

“Well, then tell me what he did!” He was very close to screaming, but well, he was supposed to behave like an adult now, so he didn’t.

Izuna twisted, hands all over his hair and face. “Why do you even want to know… you already had coffee with him.”

“Izuna, I believe that he hurt you, just give me a fucking clue! Even if it’s just his personality you don’t like, at this point I just want to know.”

Oh.

That look.

Izuna crumbled. 

And he was very close to crying.

And all the alarm bells went off in Madara’s brain, as Izuna shuffled closer, shoulders raised and arms pressed around himself. Nonetheless, he left so much space between them, so Madara didn’t dare stand and approach him.

“Izu, chick, please.” 

He hadn’t called him that in years. Chick, the youngest amongst their siblings, always his baby brother, but Izuna was almost grown now. 

It had an effect. Because the first tear silently rolled down his cheek as Izuna “Promise you’ll believe me. Like honestly, I’m not kidding.” He sniffed. “I won’t tell if you’ll just think I’m a liar.” 

Well, that hurt.

More than Madara could hide in his face and so surely Izuna got a great show of emotions rolling over his face in rapid succession. And it finally made Madara stand and almost tower over Izuna, who was still so much smaller than him. “You’re my brother, so you tell me he sups with the devil and I’ll go get the holy water. I may like him, but you’re my ride or die, you know?”

“Okay.” 

Madara gently pulled his brother’s shoulders close. 

At the softest touch alone Izuna turned to him and buried his face in Madara’s pullover covered chest. 

This would get horrible, Madara could already tell.

All sorts of scenarios were running havoc in his brain. Some more realistic than others, but the endless list of possible things that could’ve happened to Izuna doomed in the back of his mind.

But Izuna started his story different to what he’d expected. “Over the summer break, some assholes -classmates- found our brothers’ graves.” 

The breath in Madara’s throat hitched and Izuna sniffled. “They took a bunch of pictures and send them to nearly everyone when school started. I only found out during the lesson because Toka told me.” 

“It was not…”

“No it was not Senju who took them.” His nose rubbed more into Madara’s collarbone and his hair tickled the side of his throat. “At least I don’t think even he’d stoop that low.”

“What sort of pictures?”

“Some just of the- the stones, the flowers.” Izuna loudly inhaled and clearly tried to regain some control over his voice. “Some of them pretending to pray, some just laughing about- about Kagami’s paintings, someone sitting on top of- of the stone eating. They made a video too. Saying weird shit like `dig them up´ or `you think they’ll resurrect like vampires´ or `pee on the flowers, they’ll grow faster´ and shit. I just got so angry and-” 

By now he was crying again.

Madara’s grip had to be bordering on too tight by now, but Izuna apparently didn’t mind, because he kept on talking. 

Right, this was supposed to be about Tobirama’s sins. “And- and- and I cried. At first in my seat, but Senju just kept on talking, like- like nothing was going on, but so many people were whispering.” 

He was shaking by now, his voice hoarse and breaking. And then a sniff, a big inhale. “And first I couldn’t move, don’t know, maybe shock, but when I tried to- to leave, he called me back and said I needed to wait till he had finished his briefing. I mumbled an excuse, but he had been so fucking on edge the entire lesson already and he insisted I needed to stay till he finished his speech. I think the only reason that fucker kept me there for was to scorn me. I guess he likes watching people ugly cry, maybe that’s what he gets off on.” 

Madara’s skin felt damp with the wetness of his brother’s tears. “And at first I didn’t even want to insult Senju. I just wanted to leave without having to explain stuff.” Inhale. “So I just kept on screaming insults at him. But he just wouldn’t let me go. Why could he not just let me leave?” 

This was bad.

But Izuna was still crying. And he pulled him into a hug so tight, his rips started aching.

“Oh chick, I’m so sorry.” All he got was a small hum that vibrated under his fingers as he let them roam through Izuna’s hair. “Please, tell me which little fucks spread the pictures.” 

“What’ll you do?”

Good think Kagami didn’t have to see the feral grin, because Madara was beyond decency. This was an abnormal kind of anger.

A white-knuckles-clenched-jaw-headache-inducing-tension kind of rage. And he felt like ripping throats and spilling acid, conjuring hell and laughing at the burning skin of whichever teenager had the audacity to disrespect his brothers like this.

And Tobirama.

Izuna was right, he could hardly believe that the man he was describing and the one he had talked to were meant to be the same person. 

“Oh, we have some good options. My personal favourite, skin them alive. But at least, I’d like to have a talk with the people that raise them. If Kagami did stuff like this, we’d want to know to punish that entitlement right out of him too.” 

“Fine. Later. I just… want to not think for a while.” Izuna shook his head and the friction of lose hair strands tickled Madara’s wrists where he still held onto him. 

And it had become so common for Izuna to seek him out, whenever some clearly confusing thoughts ran hammock in his brain. 

He stuck close while Madara’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and his free hand softly roamed through his hair. And so he held Izuna, acquainted to the feeling of him tucked against his chest with his head under Madara’s chin. 

He had to learn to make the shift from roughhousing-brother-love to this more tender form of affection. Before, it had been more his mother’s speciality. Because, surely, it must feel like a bad imitation to both Izuna and Kagami in comparison to their mother’s balmy embrace. 

But both had taken to his warmth so eagerly and often actively sought it and Madara ached to give them this closeness they wanted. It comforted him in return too.

Sure, Madara had hugged his siblings then too, but never with intent to lend this kind of clear parental security and assurance. It was not his place to pretend that all was right with the world and he almost felt bad for attempting it so frequently now. 

After Izuna’s sniffling had softened Madara spoke, but extra careful to convey his fondness and undemanding. “Why did you not tell me earlier?”

“I don’t know.” Izuna’s fingers fumbled around with the hem of his shirt. “You were so stressed. All the time. I just didn’t want to add to that I guess. I mean, I figured I just… had to deal with it.”

“I’m sorry I gave you that impression, I didn’t even notice.” That was what bucked him the most. Same as it had disturbed him when Kagami had been able to cry so silently at the café that it could have gone unnoticed by him. Thoughts on how often he had missed moments like these already were hard to stomach, but to quell over the past would not help them in the future. “Please, if anything happens I promise I will not be annoyed or too busy or whatnot to listen to your problems or such. Just kick down my door and demand my attention.”

It wrung at least a chuckle out of Izuna, one that was more felt than heard, but simultaneously the list of things to do grew longer.

Find those little fuckers that had hurt his brother like this.

Find those messages and delete them.

And have a talk with Tobirama. 

Maybe more of a scream, because he was fucking pissed. 

There had to be an explanation for the stark difference in character between the one in Izuna’s telling and the Tobirama he’d gotten to talk to.   
Whichever it was, it had to be fucking spectacular to erase his fury.

And maybe he should get that off his agenda first. Izuna eventually parted from him and announced that he would take a hot bath. 

So Madara went to the kitchen and stared out into the back of the garden, the sunshine and babyblue sky in unbearable contrast to his gloomy mood and then he send Tobirama a text. `We need to have a serious talk.´

Tobirama answered within five minutes. `When are you free? I’m still at the school and will be until 6´

When he called upstairs that he had to leave for a short moment, the sound of running water and some weird movie Izuna probably had turned on to watch while soaking, almost drowned out Izuna’s reply. 

As he left the house, keys in hand and murder written across his face, he send Tobirama a reply. `On my way´

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So:D   
> Who's excited for the confrontation between Tobirama and Madara?  
> Take a guess on why Tobirama did what he did!  
> Any reply is greatly apprecitated, even the smallest comment is really nice to have for feedback:D


	3. An Afternoon I will not forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boy,  
> I had fully intented to keep it as one but like 13.000 words in and I still need to edit so much of the second half, so I figured, I might as well just part it and upload this first half and later the second... 
> 
> So guess this story isn't yet fully finished:D The next chap is nearly finished though ;) 
> 
> Also, I felt a little less myself recently, so I spend a lot of time going over this text, because I just can't seem to be satisfied with it, but still wouldn't change anything about it. Is that even understandable? ':D
> 
> I write this often, but here it counts again: I'm not a professional and should there be anything you find offending or outright wrong, please tell me so I can look into it! I do a lot of reasearch and look into the things I write about, same goes for this. (More about it in the End Notes)

Tobirama was not in the teacher’s lounge as the secretary had suggested. 

Madara found him in the classroom that they had had that first teacher-parent talk in. The door was ajar, so Madara could see him seated behind his desk, reading through something. The shutters were lowered, not completely as there was still beams of light shining in and lightening up the room, but enough to warrant the small additional desk lamp Tobirama had turned on.

The door creaked when Madara pushed it open without having knocked or alerted Tobirama of his presence in any way. So only when door fell closed behind him with a loud bang did Tobirama look up from his notes with a frown. The smile, which spread across his lips as he saw him was still attractive, but it was also taunting.

Madara’s fists were clenched, his shoulders rigid and his expression felt like that of someone about to have an emotional explosion, and still Tobirama mustered him patiently with a tilted head, but Madara stayed frozen by the door and unyielding to be the first to acknowledge the tension in the room. 

So silence prolonged.

`Why´ was the question he wanted to have answered more than any other. This experience had left a rift in Izuna and something like this was not easily mended when ten-thousand-and-one additional worries and grievances were already demanding attention and energy. 

Grief was a heavy carriage on its own. Like concrete towed to ones’ shoulders and neck.

Not a single reason came into his mind that spoke for Tobirama. Especially Tobirama, who had been understanding enough to not consider serious consequences for Izuna's insults. 

And now Tobirama didn't even have the curtesy to show a reaction when Madara stood across the room, clearly shaken and agitated. 

He sat, leaned back and awaiting, head tilted with the smallest smile behind well organised batches of documents and papers.

Madara’s knuckles popped loudly in the boiling absence of noise as he blocked the main path to the door with anger possibly radiating from his tense frame. 

Until Tobirama sighed and stood. The pen he had held rolled from his fingers onto the table as he circled the desk, fingers glided along its edge with mocking elegance. “Madara, good to see you. Is Izuna feeling better?” 

He must be enjoying this, Madara thought. Watching the anger flare across Madara’s expression as his hair was probably moving with the rage running through him. His teeth gritted, the ache of his tense jaw actually hurt. 

He spit the words more than speaking them. “Don’t take his name into your mouth.” 

Tobirama halted in his step, barely half way through the room, barely even far from his desk, but he had clearly been heading towards Madara and had the audacity to look taken aback. Barely there, but his eyes widened the smallest fraction and his shoulders stiffened.

As if he didn’t know. 

As if he had no fucking clue. 

The white of his fingers as he scratched his temple seemed too delicate for the deepness of Tobirama’s voice that revealed his unease. “What are you-”

“Izuna told me.” And Madara finally allowed himself to move, to stride towards him with murderous energy and Tobirama’s eyes widened after a second of surprise, then he took a step back. There was still so much space between them.

Tobirama raised his hands, not to defend himself, but to show how defenceless he was. “What did he tell you?”

Madara hissed. “You must be a fucking cold hearted jackass to force a crying teenager to sit through class. Or is it just your massive ego?”

He invaded Tobirama’s personal space, noses almost touching and hands not close to his throat pressing a finger into his shoulder so hard it surely hurt. Despite his temper, he was not one to resolve to physical violence, but this was only a bit of uncomfortable pressure. 

As Tobirama took another startled step back, eyes widening even further and breathe hitching, he collided with his desk. Things clattered, a bottle fell and rolled under a shelf. 

His throat bobbed, his eyes twitched, apparently searching for something in Madara’s expression. And still, Tobirama looked on edge. Awaiting, but not afraid, more calmly controlled. “That is a wild accusation.” 

Madara’s finger moved along what felt like a collarbone and the calmness of his voice actual-ly surprised himself too, because inside he was livid. “He cried when he told me and honestly, I’m interested in your explanation, because I cannot think of one. Fucking. Acceptable. Rea-son why you would let my brother sit through pain and embarrassment like that.” 

“Could you repeat-”

“You better fucking think of a good reason,” now he was screaming, “because I’m this close to just ripping your head off.” 

“I would appreciate it if you could explain to me what exactly-”

Until now, Tobirama had never been afraid of eye contact, but now he kept evading his glare and it pissed Madara off even more. “One of your little shits send pictures of our brother’s graves into their group chat. Our dead brothers, you know. All of them went to this school before and there are pictures of people mocking their graves. Bites me how no fucking respectable adult found out until now, but you-” 

Madara leaned even closer, Tobirama tried to lean further back. It had to ache, holding that backwards bend over his desk. Not that Madara particularly cared about that right now. His finger twisted, poking even further, hopefully leaving a mark. “You, didn’t even care to ask. Maybe you’re a sadist, watching a child cry while others are staring.”

Tobirama was white. Not his usual light skin tone, but Madara was sure almost all the colour had drained from his face. “When- when was this supposed to have happened?” 

“During your first lesson.” Droplets of spit flew, totally on purpose. “Let your anger and stress at home, if you feel the need to let it out on some innocent children.”

“Oh.” More a breath than a whisper from Tobirama and something like dread flashed over his eyes, but it felt like a bomb in Madara’s mind. 

He was screaming again. “Yes, oh! Now shut your mouth and-”

Suddenly Tobirama sighed and disrupted him. “I did not ignore him on purpose. I probably didn’t noticed.”

Madara’s anger boiled white. “At least look me in the eyes when you talk shit and want me to believe it.”

He must have noticed the surge of aggression, because for the first time since he’d met him, he saw real insecurity in Tobirama’s eyes, only a hint and it was gone the next second and replaced by an apologetic expression. 

“I’m deafblind.”

What.

The word haloed through his mind.

Nothing about it made sense. Madara was frozen in his shock. 

But his rage did not dissipate this easily. That explanation had bullshit spelled all over it. Deaf. Blind. Tobirama. In one sentence. “You don’t seem very blind or deaf to me.” 

“Well, it is not something I publically disclose.” Tobirama sounded a bit sour, but slowly turned his head, as if he was expecting Madara to slap his cheek or stab his now unprotected throat. 

Tobirama lifted his hand and only as Madara didn’t hinder him, did he pull aside some of his hair to reveal his ear and the thin, almost see-through cord that circled over the shell of his ear to the back of his head. “I have hearing aids and strong lenses.” 

Tobirama’s stern focus had not left his eyes, maybe he was looking for something. “It is when I’m hit with a vastly different and new situation that I essentially fail myself and I now have a theory as to what happened during the first lesson and if my suspicions are true, then I’ll have to thoroughly apologise to Izuna and will have all the incidents taken from his record.” 

Tobirama seemed more bothered with his apparent failure to catch Izuna’s demise and less with baring all these personal information, but still Madara felt rude for even immediately thinking of two-hundred questions. 

He blurted it out before he had a chance to rethink his words. “Enlighten me then.”

A small huff escaped Tobirama alongside his smile and he leaned back onto his hands, a bit more relaxed and Madara noticed how close he was still standing to him, so he stepped back a couple hasty steps. 

But not far enough to step out of Tobirama’s sight, which he seemed to notice and appreciate if the widening smile was any hint to go by. “What I remember from that lesson is…”

~~~ First Chemistry Lesson ~~~

The school presented itself as the usual unformed blotch of colour that Tobirama had to as-sume was a modern building with mustard coloured walls. He had folded his cane together at the street corner by the entrance gate. It was still early enough to be mostly deserted, only a handful of people, by their shape presumably young teens, lingered by the bike racks. The way up to the main entrance was broad and smooth, close up the door’s handle and parts of a staircase grew more focused. 

The first proper day of school would start in an hour and Tobirama would have liked to have more time to get to know the space he was to work in, but they were short on staff, the head-mistress explained and no one had had the time to show him around earlier.  
Inside the main hallway, it was dark enough to take down his sunglasses too.

He had looked at the floor plan beforehand, so the navigation to the secretariat where he was supposed to register was easy. 

The school had made a request on short notice. Only last week, a lab partner of his had told him that they had gotten a plea to look for a temporary teacher for this school, because no one had taken the offer and Tobirama had recognised the name. Itama went here, Kawarama had just left, Hashirama used to go there, and it had provoked a slither of responsibility.

Tobirama had asked around. 

Apparently, no one in his department had even had the time to consider taking the position. 

Presenting projects for his small group of fellow students had never caused an issue and even though school was presumably different, he had contacted the school himself. 

They had been desperate enough to hire him on the spot despite the list of requirements that would be needed to make this additional work alongside his lab projects bearable.

The hallways were straight and with differently coloured walls which would make orientation easy. There were windows but they were spaced further apart. While walking in the shade made seeing harder, walking in the sun would be straight up painful.

The headmistress, a woman clasped in a red shirt and a dark blue trouser of sort, unfortunately had no remarkable feature. She was of average height with a standard dark brown open hairstyle of moderate length and a brown skin tone so many people in Tobirama’s environment had too. 

The only thing Tobirama could use to recognise her from a distance were the green brim of the glasses she wore. She greeted him as he was still too far away to make out her facial features, but as soon as she got into his field of clear vision, he could see her surprise. 

Something about him was not as she had expected. Only that Tobirama had stopped brooding over the thoughts of strangers years ago.

She had led him to a room. In a mail, Tobirama had been made aware of their curriculum and he had prepared accordingly, but she gave him an even more detailed overview. The noise level outside the window grew, students were arriving, traffic in general got stronger. So far, it was similar enough to his years at university.

Then she led him to the classroom that would be his for the three or four months of his employment. 

The first thing Tobirama noticed was that the school had either not read his request or did not take it seriously, because the windows’ shutters were broken and the entire room was drenched in direct sunlight. 

His skin tingled with a phantom burn at the thought of an hour long exposure. So he turned to her before they had even taken a step into the room. “In accord with the mail I send you be-forehand, I’ll have to request to either get another room or have these shutters repaired.” 

She at least seemed honestly apologetic. She turned her head in embarrassment, not on pur-pose, but made it harder for him to understand or lip-read nonetheless. “Of course. It was sup-posed to be done by today, but the firm called in sick. Will you be alright for today?”

He had dressed in a long-sleeved dress shirt and long dark blue dress pants. They would pro-tect him well enough for now. His eyes were the major problem. “It will have to do.”

Tobirama stepped into the room and towards the desk he was supposed to work on. The sun shone directly into his face, his eyes squinted reflectively. “I’d like to relocate my desk too.”

“Right now?” 

Only five minutes and the students would enter. There was no time for an entire interior rede-sign, he would have to deal with the situation as it was for now. “After the lesson.”

Then something seemed to come to her mind, because her face twisted. “You asked to cut the class sizes in half if possible, but we weren't able to do that.”

And she was telling him that five minutes before he was left alone with a situation that would be a novum at best and an overwhelming test for his calm vigilance. Tobirama gave her a crisp nod. That was all he would allow to show her his anger. After all, disability only felt like a limitation when his surrounding was decidedly not ready to help with small inconveniences. 

And this one would be bad, he could already tell. 

The acoustics of the room had him on high alert already. There weren’t even students and already the way the sound reflected from the naked walls, stone tables and the unusual floor-ing was uncomfortable and made it harder to locate its source. 

As he asked her whether the students had been made aware of his condition and who he was, she negated again and informed him that they would like to keep his impairments from the students, if possible.

She was already back at the door as he asked if there was anything he needed to know about the classes he was to focus on. She said no.

Tobirama spent the remaining time getting acquainted with the layout of the room, with the locations of all the materials. From his desk, he would only be able to make out the first two rows of students. From the blackboard, he would barely be able to see the first. 

As soon as the bell rang and the students started to pile in, the real problem revealed itself. 

Tobirama had known that his hearing aids did not work for him well in public places with extensive noise pollution. But that students could rival the stress of a train station was not what he had expected. Voices of different pitches and loudness talked over each other, things rattled, suddenly people were laughing, chairs screeched. That was one reason he had asked for a smaller group of students.

Another problem was that even though he'd asked them to store their bags beneath the tables, to also protect them during experiments, plenty of students didn't really grasp the idea of keeping the floor between the tables free of traps. 

Even after he’d called the students to silence, the noise did not vanish. There was still whispering, someone opened a bottle of fizzy water, someone coughed, people started scratching pens on paper, books were opened, and the acoustics of the room were so bad that that sound reflected back and was even harder to discern. 

He had gone to a school specialised in physical impairment. Few students had been considered deafblind and even fewer had been able to learn at the speed he did, so the group of students he had been taught in had always been small, all the students aware of his situation and the importance of clear communication. At Uni he had had a small year group, mostly partner projects and acoustically well build rooms. 

Tobirama was not insecure. 

He had adapted extraordinary well. He did not feel limited either. Normally. 

However right now, blinded by the strong light accompanied by stinging pain in his sensitive eyes, additionally to the realisation that his hearing aids were either not in the right program or too bad to help him make sense of the sounds in such a chaotic surrounding, Tobirama felt truly stressed and disoriented as he hadn’t in years.

He started with his introduction and organisational details, but it felt like talking to a group of animated pillows, because out of the thirty-two students he could not even make out ten faces. 

Next on the agenda was a seating plan in which he had one of the students fill in, because he himself did not trust his hearing to simply ask the students were they were sitting and mark down their names. 

The plan would not help him remember anything about them, he realised. He would have to make a round to remember the faces along the names, but with the strong light and the chaotic way they had dropped their bags, Tobirama was not sure whether he’d manage to walk amongst them without walking into a table. 

Then he started his introduction, the general curriculum they would have to cover, and mostly the students kept from talking and were respectful. But even when they raised their hands and asked questions, the general noise cluster was so bad, that it was difficult to understand a single thing they were saying.

And then the janitor started his lawnmower outside the window and he was close to completely isolated. 

The feeling of being watched without being able to make out any body language of this crowd of invisible inspectors that seemingly spoke in a language he wasn’t able to fully understand, because the amplification of sound was horrible.

While his hands and face were on fire form the sun exposure. 

And his eyes, oversensitive to the light, were painfully tense. 

This would have to change.

He would not be able to keep on teaching if every lesson felt as uncomfortable as this. 

At least, when he focused on getting through the material and explaining the first basic concepts, time flew fast. There was noise in his back and when he turned to face the students, he called them to order and the deepness of his voice seemingly had an authoritarian effect on most of them. 

He was lucky they were respectful enough not to riot.

He was lucky he knew his material and subject with a passion strong enough to talk through all the distraction, because the amount of energy he had to spend on blending out the chaotic input was abysmal.

Only fifteen minutes were left and Tobirama might have even ended the lesson early, there were only ten more sentences or so he wanted to say and then all of them would be released, but all of a sudden a figure in the back rose and strode towards the door.

Dark clothing, black hair, there was nothing else Tobirama could make out and a quick glance at the sitting plan gave him the right name. “Izuna, please sit down. I only have ten more minutes to get through and then you will be released ahead of time.”

The boy halted, blurred as his body was, Tobirama could only assume that he was looking at him, but as whispers rose and the other students grew agitated, whatever he was mumbling did not get through Tobirama’s filters. He just spoke so unclear and silent.

But he stayed by the door and made no movement back to his chair. The janitor was right by the window, the light directly in his right eye and the first tell-tale sensation of sunburn on his hands. It had him snap. “As I said, ten more minutes and you’ll be free to do as you please. Now please get over whatever caused your commotion and sit down.”

And then the boy said something, Tobirama first didn’t even register, but then his voice got louder and the other students got silent at once.  
Insults. 

And he sounded angry. 

The first lesson and someone tried to rebel against him. 

It was sort of amusing, because even as agitated as he felt right now, Tobirama’s confidence was not easily rattled. 

So after a string of more vicious and certainly creative names, he simply noted down what he had wanted to say on the blackboard and asked the students to copy or photograph. 

Then he dismissed them.

And before he could call Izuna to the front for a talk, he had turned and bailed. 

And Tobirama’s first action was to put on his sunglasses and go somewhere where he was able to apply cooling balm onto his burning skin while savouring the silence and darkness of the copy room to calm his raging headache.

What an unsavoury start.

~~~~~~~~

Tobirama made a slow wave towards a desk at the back of the room right by the windows and ruffled his hair in the same motion. “Izuna sits right by the window, because of the distance alone, he is nothing more than a shape to me. That I can manage, but the second most restrict-ing thing is that my eyes are photophobic. The shutter was broken. They've repaired it after the first lesson, otherwise I would’ve lowered it even though darkness makes it harder to see, but backlit by strong light like this makes it extremely painful to even look in his direction. I could’ve worn sunglasses inside, but well...” 

Tobirama sighed deeply and his hand came up to stroke aside his hair. “It does not excuse that I did not notice. In hindsight, I regret not having insisted on more preparation time or having taken adequate precautions like being upfront with the students. They also only informed me about Izuna’s situation after I reported the first incident. When I wanted to talk with him after the second lesson, he was already not cooperating. Not that I blame him for that now that I know.” 

White noise, similar to the sound a microwave made rang through Madara’s brain as it tried to connect the dots. He walked back another step and almost stumbled as his thigs hit another table, allowing himself to lean against it awkwardly.

Madara was still frozen, jaw gritted, but he blurted out the first thing his mind could produce. “You’re joking.” 

And he felt guilty immediately. 

He did not really believe that Tobirama was joking, his expression was way too open and serious for this to be an elaborate excuse. 

Tobirama sighed deeply. “I assure you, I’m not.” 

He hadn’t noticed Izuna crying, because he was both, deaf and blind. But why was he teaching teenagers in a regular school then?

But there was a weight on his shoulders and Madara recognised it, because he felt it around his own neck often enough. A special kind of resignation with having to explain something that was not exactly a burden, but not exactly pleasant either.

(He himself felt it whenever he had to talk about his custodian duties. He would fling himself from a cliff for his brothers, but he’d much rather have stayed just that. Their brother.)

Tobirama probably took his silence as doubt, because he leaned back over his table a bit more and pulled over his back to show Madara the tip of a foldable cane, he even pulled out his wallet and pulled out a card not unlike a credit card in looks. 

`International Disability ID Card´

His expression must have showed how shocked he was. Tobirama only cocked his head and gave him a smile that was just shy of arrogant. “You probably never noticed, because I am very good at blending in. And to be fair, we only met twice.” 

“But you never had trouble understanding me.”

And then Tobirama right-out huffed a laugh, white teeth glistening in the soft light of the desk lamp behind him and the light from underneath the shutters illuminated their shoes, warmed their legs. “To be honest, you speak rather loud and fairly clear, so it is easy to follow. The same goes for your brothers by the way. Aside we've only met in environments I know my way around entirely.” 

Madara blushed, he tried not to, but Tobirama sounded fond, almost teasing. “Sorry, I just… I’m just curious. It does not change anything or so. I just…” 

How could he stay so calm and collected while Madara’s mental image of him was just being flipped. Not that it mattered, he chided himself out of this mental swirl. It did decidedly not matter. Tobirama was still the same person Madara felt an attraction to right from the start. He just happened to be deaf and blind too.

Sure, he knew he himself was not one of the most observant people, but. Deafblind.

And Tobirama was still mustering him, roaming his eyes and mouth and now, for the first time, Madara wondered how much he was actually able to see when he looked at him like this. Was he trying to read his lips? Was his vision good enough to make out his facials at all? 

Blindness was a spectrum. That much Madara knew. Legally blind did not mean `seeing nothing´.

The same as `deaf´ did not mean `unable to hear sound´.

People’s experiences with it were entirely individual.

Suddenly he rethought all the interactions they’ve had. Tobirama hadn’t spoken with him while they were walking through hallways or over the crowded campus, but aside from that there had never really been any notable conspicuity about him. 

True, they had only met here at school and on campus, places Tobirama had ventured hun-dreds of times, but even there it had to be more difficult for him to walk without running into someone or something.

Or maybe Madara hadn’t noticed, because he had been too enraptured with Izuna’s problems and during their second meeting Kagami. Or with Tobirama and his engaging character in general.

And maybe it was best if he stopped assuming anything, because the most efficient and respectful was to ask Tobirama and not merely let his brain run itself into frenzy.

He sighed deeper and tried to hide his eyes behind a lock of hair, but then reminded himself that Tobirama was probably able to understand him better when his voice was not muttered and muffled by hair, so he straightened up again. “I’m interested in you. All of you. Sorry, if you find my questions offending or annoying.” 

And Tobirama’s smile that followed that had no business being as attractive and cocky as it was. “I do not actively try to hide it, but I have had close to two decades to accustom.” 

Only briefly did Tobirama avert his eyes from Madara to pull over a case which he flipped opened. “I am legally blind, but have only moderate hearing loss.” Glasses, he showed him. Then he waved at himself with the same motion. “My vision has several problems, some of which have to do with this type of oculocutaneous albinism.”

Apparently, Tobirama could also read thoughts. “Even with my lenses my vision is highly myopic and fogged because of glaucoma related to that. There are more problems, I could give you a monologue about all the related issues.” 

He looked up and mustered Madara’s face again. “It is impossible to describe how my vision differs from yours, because I only ever knew it impaired, but with my lenses and within a ra-dius of three, four meter I am able to see decently sharp, sharp enough to distinguish facial expression.”

Tobirama simply had to follow it up with something that had Madara’s head suddenly warming up, because apparently they were officially past the subtle flirting phase. “Your face is very aesthetic, I enjoy it whenever you get close enough for me to see its features sharpened.” 

Maybe Madara could've followed it up with something smooth like `I wouldn't mind if you got even closer´, but his higher brain functions were still in a stall. So all he managed to croak out was. “And your hearing?”

“My hearing got worse after a meningitis infection as a toddler. Across a room, I can only understand people if they speak loud, and in noisy environments I need really good hearing aids to discern anything into meaning.” 

“You probably lip-read.” 

It was not really a question, more an afterthought, but Tobirama gave an acknowledging nod. “I have been told that I’m exceptionally good at filling the blanks too.”

Madara was still too overwhelmed to even ask, but he forced his first thought out anyway. “How are you even able to hold lessons now then?”

He still held Madara’s gaze, a small smile playing along his lips and the only hint of unease was the hint of apology in his eyes. “After that first lesson I immediately consulted my audi-ologist and asked for better hearing aids. I haven’t had problems understanding students since then. I implemented some general rules that allow me to walk amongst the tables. That way I notice if something is off or when someone isn’t paying attention. Or writing secret messages.” A small smile, a hint of dread and self-irony in it. “At least I hope I do, but this revelation has me uncertain.”

Madara sank down onto the table top, crouched forward a bit, one hand already coming up to rub at his face. “But, you recognised my student’s card…”

“Things in closer proximity are better to make out, and I can recognise the colouration and general design. Also, the shape of the logo is distinctive.”  
It clicked. “That’s why you know the colours of the other faculties.”

“Yes.” 

“You recognised me on campus?”

Tobirama cocked his head and sighed. 

With the greater distance between them and Madara’s diminished anger that had been slowly replaced by a complex mixture of confusion, Tobirama seemed more relaxed. 

“I have contacts. They are easier to use lab approved safety glasses with.” He had sat down on his desk too, and crossed his arms. 

His eyes then focused back on Madara. “And I remember strong physical attributes. Your hair is very unique, from a distance it is like a dark cloud. It was even easier, because you wore it the same as you did the first time.” 

How the hell was he able to say such things and seem so unbothered. Madara needed a mo-ment to look around. He rose from his chair and crossed his arms to focus his thoughts and not be side-tracked by Tobirama’s open and awaiting expression. 

So he exhaled, rubbed his face and sorted his thoughts. “Izuna is not gonna thank you. I’m not even sure that at this point he’ll be able to accept an apology.”

Tobirama’s eyes were still searching Madara’s gaze. No, he was probably lip reading, Madara now realised. “That’s fathomable.”

“And I’m still angry.”

Tobirama nodded, honestly accepting and not even a hint of misplaced disappointment. “I understand.” 

And a thought suddenly erupted. How many situations like this had he had to endure?

How many people had grown angry and had raged at him, because they didn’t know or didn’t realise that he truly was physically not able to understand what they were saying or see. To rely so entirely on technology to bridge the gap between oneself and the outside world had to exhausting.

For someone who had more weight to carry, more to consider, the risk was so much higher to fuck up. This wasn’t really something Tobirama was at fault for.

Everyone was carrying a silent package. That Madara had known and he himself was a prima-ry example of that. And apparently Tobirama had one too.

He straightened and stood, almost eye to eye with Tobirama who mustered him, not cautious-ly, just interested in what he was going to do. 

And Madara made sure to meet his eye. “I’d like to excuse for my brash behaviour. From what I’d been told and the way I thought I’d gotten to know you, it only made sense for you to have done it on purpose. Please accept my apology.” 

Tobirama held his gaze, then turned his head to stare into the distance. “I accept your apology. Although, I have to utter one plea and that is for you to control your anger better in future. And… if you must raise your voice, please try to speak clearly at least.”

Well, fair enough. “Okay. That sounds reasonable.” There was plenty not to like about anger, but the way Tobirama said it… there had to be more to it. “Is there a specific reason?”

He explained and even gave Madara an honest smile, accompanied by a serious gaze. “I think that is something I’ll keep to myself for now. Not that I assumed you’d hit me, this is more a general remark.”

Oh, this was such a mess. 

From all things, this was not what he had expected. 

He was not even sure what he had expected. For Tobirama to be an asshole maybe. For him to have an elaborate, complicated excuse. But that he had honestly not even been able to notice hadn’t been on his mind.

And apparently, Madara’s mind had already made up a decision on something else and his heart was very much on board. The sigh that escaped him was a bit shaky and he rushed through his sentence to get them out before his cheeks had turned to hot. “Well, let’s make one thing clear. If Izuna is fine with it, I still want to go out with you on Friday.”

Now Tobirama looked surprised and addled. “What?”

“Did you really not hear that?” Madara deadpanned and wanted to hit himself right after. Great, already joking about Tobirama’s very serious disability.

Tobirama seemed almost confused by his response. “Just repeat that one more time, because I’m not sure I heard that correctly.” Madara was honestly not sure if he was playing him or if he was being serious. 

“I still want to go out with you on Friday if Izuna accepts your apology and doesn’t tear my heart out for it.” He repeated it just to assure Tobirama that he had truly said what he’d said. Madara suddenly felt the heat of a blush, so he hastily added. “I mean, if you changed your mind, I can understand…”

And a bigger smile graced Tobirama’s lips. “No, my invitation still stands.”

Good. Excellent. The feeling rushing through him was most certainly relief and Madara gave in to the urge to smile at him in return. “I’d say, by now I should be the one inviting you. I was the one who ambushed you after all.” 

And the phone in Madara’s trousers chimed and he took it out to have a quick glance at the display. 

It was Izuna: `I just picked up Kagami. Where the heck are you???´ 

And a second message came in right after: `And when are you coming home? I thought we wanted to go to the cemetery?!´

Right, he had to get back home. 

Going to the cemetery was not something he wanted to do when it was already getting dark. He would have to get groceries tonight or tomorrow too, and they had to hover. 

Madara put his phone away. “It is Izuna. I should get home. He was not feeling the best before I left.”

Nonetheless he stayed stuck to the ground, mustering Tobirama who in return was looking at him. He seemed thoughtful and sure enough, his fingers combed his hair. “I have an idea, but I’m not sure whether Izuna will appreciate it.”

“What is it then?”

Still leaning against the desk and letting his arms sink to mindfully rest on the ledge of the desk beside him, Tobirama looked like serenity incarnated. “I don’t want to give him the feeling that I invaded his house or forced him to listen to me, but maybe the school building is not the ideal place to talk with him either, so if I were to come along now, do you reckon he would listen?”

Oh, boy. There was no telling how Izuna would react. 

And Izuna had a right to be angry. But maybe after an explanation he’d know that not every rage had a scapegoat to blame it on. 

Then again, Tobirama had been the adult who had years to adapt to his condition, but still, failing or making mistakes and misjudgements was only human. 

Madara nodded. “I’d say, either way he might not talk with you, so we might as well try. Kagami wanted to see you actually. He spent long hours building something to rival the Death Star.”

Tobirama’s smile widened as he cocked his head with glinting eyes. He seemed pleasantly surprised. “Well, then I certainly should come so his effort wasn’t in vain.” He pressed away from his desk to stand and circled around to take his bag and started sorting files. 

He did only briefly look up and took a glance over his desk, then over the floor and eventually picked up his water bottle again.

For a second Madara was surprised that he had been able to find it at all, because it had rolled a respectable distance and into the shade of a table at that, but the bottle was bright red, so even if Tobirama did only see blurs beyond a three meter radius, he should still be able to see it. “Do all your things have vibrant colours?”

“No.” He glanced up as he put away his laptop and gave Madara a small smile. “Although it is more practical, I prefer to stick to more muted colours mostly. My brothers are the ones to buy me things with outlandish designs.” He held up a bento box with colourful leaves. “They are at least easy to distinguish from a distance.”

Walking alongside Tobirama towards the parking lot, it was easy to forget that he did not see or hear very well. 

He walked with the same straight forward stride that he had before, he asked questions and answered, looked around and seemed entirely comfortable. The sun was out so he put on a pair of sunglasses as soon as they left the school building and Madara had to clear his throat, because he did not want to be caught ogling. 

That Tobirama did not talk while walking was something that had never struck Madara as weird, now it just made additional sense.

Madara clicked the car’s key and the lights blinked at them, so Tobirama knew where they were heading. 

Tobirama opened the passenger’s side and Madara took a seat behind the wheel, but before he turned on the engine he turned to him. “How did you get here? I can drop you off wherever you need to go later.” 

“I usually walk. My apartment is close to campus.” Oh right, Tobirama certainly would not be allowed to drive a car or ride a bike. 

“Right, okay.” He started the engine and after a second of thought, turned off the radio, because that additional background noise was probably not helpful for Tobirama. A glance in his direction and Madara had to stop his heartbeat from racing, because Tobirama was giving him that smile that told him he had done something thoughtful. 

Madara unlocked the door and called. “Izuna?”

His keys rattled in the bowl on their shelf at the entrance as he stepped into the entrance so he could see the top of the stairs and to allow Tobirama to come inside too and close the door. Somewhere deeper in the house, a door opened and eventually his brother’s face appeared at the top of the stairs. “What?!”

“Come downstairs. We wanna talk.” 

Izuna groaned and leaned over the rail like a droplet of water. Tobirama was yet still hidden by the wall. “Again? I thought we were through with all the serious stuff.”

Madara felt a little guilty, but Tobirama had been right. To talk at school would have made Izuna even more on edge so this was the less awful alternative. “Someone is here to explain something to you.”

That made Izuna instantly suspicious. 

He straightened and raised a brow. “Who is it? I swear if it is-” and then Tobirama stepped in front of the stairs too, “-fucking Senju.”

Izuna was probably too far away for Tobirama to make out any facial cues, but he gave him a small, confident smile anyway. “Hello Izuna, I’m sorry for disturbing your home. Your brother informed me about what happened during our first lesson.”

Izuna’s expression got darker, his voice was laced with sarcasm. “Great.” 

“All I would like to do is to explain what happened from my perspective and apologise for not handling the situation better, but I don’t expect you to accept my apology.” 

“You shouldn’t have this conversation at the entrance.” Madara remarked and slid out of his shoes.

Izuna’s eyes were squinted to slits. “Who says I want to have a conversation at all?” 

Madara threw him an annoyed look and waved him down. “Oh, I can promise you want to hear this. Tobirama will have all your outburst taken from your record too.”

Still, Izuna seemed uncooperative. 

He stepped down the stairs tentatively and stared at Tobirama the entire time, even as he silently passed them to aggressively slip into his slippers to step around the corner into the kitchen, his iron gaze held onto Tobirama for as long as possible.

Madara did not want to apologise in Izuna’s stead, his brother had a right to be angry after all. And it would be hypocritical of him to chide him, when he himself had stormed into Tobirama’s class room an hour ago.

So instead he gave Tobirama a small smile that hopefully conveyed his unease and gave him a pair of unused guest slippers and found a free spot in their coatrack. 

Izuna had taken refuge in front of the sink, arms crossed and very tense shoulders. 

As if he belonged to the furniture, Tobirama stepped in and stopped close by the door, leaned against a cabinet with straight posture, yet completely non-confrontational. He was probably just close enough to see Izuna’s face in detail. Madara decided to take a more neutral ground right by their kitchen table. 

He wanted to be more a spectator anyway.

This was not his conflict to settle after all. 

True to Tobirama’s nonchalant directness, he started without beating around the bush. “It is not easy for me to admit, but during the lesson I was in a mental hassle with my own physical limits. It made me impatient and inattentive, so I honestly didn’t hear or see your distress.” 

Izuna blinked twice, then frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m deafblind. I have no intend to legitimate my errors. This is just for you to understand that I did not intent to be cruel or put you in duress.” 

Izuna gaped, then shook his head, seemingly collecting himself and his thoughts. “You’re disabled?”

Madara’s head whipped around. “Izuna.” 

But Tobirama only nodded, not even uncomfortable or offended, but merely acknowledging the truth.

“And none of us even noticed?”

“Apparently so.”

“You don’t seem very impaired to me.”

Madara’s hiss grew more insistent. “Izuna.” 

“I can see and hear, but not as well as others.” Tobirama tilted his head and smiled, fingers running along the edge of their counter top. “I appreciate that both of you speak in my direction, very clear and loud, it helps tremendously.”

Well, Madara felt his face heat up a little, because speaking loud was not necessarily something they did on purpose. If Tobirama’s cocky smile was anything to go by, he knew that just as well. 

Izuna’s mouth just got bigger, but his arms loosened and his shoulders sank, so he was probably relaxing a little. “And are you’re other sense enhanced or something?”

Tobirama outright threw his head back and laughed at that. “I wouldn’t have taken you for someone that believes in popular misconceptions.” 

He tilted his head and the white of his smile was painful to watch without being allowed to come close and kiss those lips. “I value food with a good smell and taste, and I might be more particular about its quality. It is not that my other senses got better, I assume that I pay more attention to them.” 

His smile changed into something more amused afterwards, but fond as well. “I am especially sensitive with touch.” 

Tobirama’s hand felt along the edge of the counter as if to demonstrate and Madara suddenly hoped that there weren’t any crumbs stuck to the surface. And those fingers. 

And then Madara had to clear his throat. It was not innuendo, he had to remind himself. Or maybe it was and Tobirama was just very good at saying things with a straight face. He probably meant reading braille or something similar. 

And before Madara could say anything, Kagami’s head peaked around the corner and his cheeks flushed. 

He had been biting his lips again and seemed frantic as he eyed Tobirama. 

Tobirama gave him a smile, but Izuna asked another question that Madara did not hear, be-cause Kagami came inside to press against Madara’s leg.

He would have liked to listen to Tobirama’s and Izuna’s conversation, but Kagami pulled on his trouser to get his attention. Something was up and he had to crouch so that Kagami could shuffle closer, almost into his lap and was nervously playing with his fingers. “Please don’t be mad.” 

Hopefully it was nothing he would regret, but he lifted his pinkie and Kagami crossed his own pinkie. “Promise. Now what happened?”

“Izuna was doing the laundry when you called. I just wanted to help.” He glanced to the side, maybe to hide his flushed face from Tobirama, maybe to evade a possible scolding.

Oh boy, great start. Madara waited patiently for Kagami to focus his nervously roaming eyes back onto him. “Did you turn on the washing machine?”

Kagami nodded, lips drawn in and eyes very wide and sheepish. “And maybe I possibly accidentally put too much soap in.”

Madara had to control his expression tightly to not even sigh, so he just nodded and because Kagami was already basically latched onto him, he felt it safe to pet his cheek and take his hand. “Okay, let’s go and turn it off then before we create a gigantic bubble bath.”

That had been the wrong thing to tease. Seldom had an eight year old felt as much joy for physical hygiene as Kagami. If possible, his eyes grew even bigger, but a smile stretched out to as he basically vibrated, his fingers unintentionally pulled on Madara’s hair. “Bubble bath? Mads, please! Can we have one?”

“We wanted to visit mom and dad, remember? So after dinner.” He stood, but kept holding onto Kagami’s hand. “And not because our washing machine had too much detergent.”

He zoned into Izuna’s and Tobirama’s conversation again. Izuna had lifted a hand to touch his temple like he usually did when he was developing a headache. “So, just for the record, when I called you `as useful as a deaf bat´, I unintentionally disability discriminated you?”

Sometimes, Madara was not sure whether the boy had been raised in a shed. 

Izuna bulldozed right over whatever he had wanted to say. “And what about when I said you were a `dumb jackass blinded by his own shit´?”

Tobirama didn’t seem affronted, he didn’t really show a reaction beyond amused acceptance at all. “I don’t even have that one on my list.”

“Tobirama, Izuna.” Both of them turned their heads towards Madara and he could feel Kagami shift closer. “Kagami and I will have to stop the washing machine before we drown in bubbles. Will you be alright?”

Izuna merely waved him away, but Tobirama was nice enough to nod. Before he left the room he turned again and stared at his brother. “Izuna, offer him a drink at least, okay?”

Izuna just flipped him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Is basically finished:D Only one question: Do you want smut? XD
> 
> Again: Tell me if something is wrong or offending! 
> 
> I know someone who's experience is similar to Tobirama's (she hasn't got albinism, but glaucoma and myopia etc alongside a mild hearing impairment), so I based a lot of this on her tellings. I didn't know for a long time that she had a disability at all, but I didn't really now her well enough. When we were in a language class with around twenty people and suddenly she had difficulties because of the noise and distance etc. and we started talking more about mental and physical limitations and such:)


	4. Crossroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! 
> 
> Guys, are you as excited as me? 
> 
> Also, a date :D and maybe a little kissing ;)

The washing machine was filled to the brim with foam. Madara couldn’t even make out the laundry they had wanted to turn on. It was also set to a setting Madara had never seen and would probably never use. 

He send Kagami to look for their laundry basket while Madara turned off the machine and scooped out some of the excess detergent that was still in the small compartment. 

Then he opened the door and let some of the bubbles run into the basket and he washed it out in the tub. Kagami stood at his side, awkward and swaying from left to right, but Madara assured him that everything was okay. An honest smile and a small reminder of the promised bath broke his nervous energy and Kagami seemed relieved. 

“Can you wash the clothes?” He asked and Kagami was eager to help him drag out soaked clothes into the basket and transfer them to the tub. Water on a semi-warm setting and shower head securely in Kagami’s hands, he let him have his fun rinsing out undiluted detergent from their trousers and t-shirts.

It took less than five minutes to wipe out the washing cylinder, then Madara filled all of the clothes back in and turned it back on. 

But Kagami and he were soaked. Foam everywhere, fingers pruned and they smelled like a flowery towel factory. The floor was wet too, soapy footprints of a small and a big set, and Madara dried it with a used towel.

Kagami did not seem to mind the wet splotches or the bubbles, but laundry detergent could still be irritating for the skin and so Madara got them into his bathroom with minimal floor contact and then they showered very fast. 

At least, Izuna and Tobirama had had a great amount of time to talk through their differences.

Kagami was clasped in his fluffy pink bathrobe, seated on the brim of the tub and Madara was towelling his hair. He had been ranting about Hiruzen and the neighbours’ chickens, but suddenly stopped. 

It happened sometimes. He usually tensed up and was distant all of a sudden.

Madara pulled over another towel and patted Kagami’s ankle till he lifted his foot and snapped out of whatever had distracted him. Madara smiled. “Are you okay? What’s on your mind?”

“Don’t know. Just… stuff.”

“Stuff you wanna talk about?” Madara asked while he dried his feet, carefully to not hurt his toes.

And it was the way he shrugged his shoulders that had Madara filled with this special sort of dread, because for all the warmth he had to share, Kagami could get very numb when memories returned. 

Madara hummed, but gently took Kagami’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. 

Although attachment issues were best mended by gentle, positive reassurance, Madara was careful with the amount of physical contact he initiated, because he did not want to force overbearing affection. That could be just as negative as the opposite.

It was a bit of a paradox. Kagami sought contact, plenty of it, but now and again, physical closeness became almost unbearable to him. He never really got aggressive towards them, but sometimes, he turned all the tension on himself which for Madara’s taste was even worse.

It was not that they did not talk about the accident or that they pretended life was normal. But Kagami had often told him that in moments like this he just wanted the pictures to stop so gentle distraction was what they did since then.

Kagami had once tried to explain it to Madara, the smell of blood mixed with gasoline, the sounds of saws trying to cut open a way through the car in time to save them all, the crying, the colour red branded into his mind for the first couple of weeks, the silent death of their brothers. 

And all of that in the limited language and mental understanding of an elementary school aged child. Because Kagami, for all the ways he seemed too mature and open often enough, was deeply scarred and often unable to verbalise it.

Now, Kagami leaned against him more, the softness of his bathrobe tickled Madara’s wrist, but he only move his hand to caress the wild mess of curls on his head. “Do you want to cuddle up for a while?”

They had gotten him one of those weighted blankets, a child-approved one, and he loved to lay beneath and hide his face at Madara’s chest. But right now, after a long minute of no reaction at all, Kagami’s hair shifted with the gentle motion of a shake. 

His murmur was small enough to easily miss it. “My ship.” 

“Do you want to show your ship to Tobirama?” 

He nodded, then stayed quiet, but eventually turned to face Madara and the bathrobe nearly slid from his small shoulders. “Do you think he will like it?” 

“I think he will, but even if he doesn’t that does not change the fact that it is really good.”

“Really?”

“Really. How about Izuna, you and I go to the shops on Saturday. We can buy a couple of books and a new Lego set, mh?”

He clung even closer, but livelihood had returned to him and the tension left. “I wanna play in the ball pool. You can throw me in like at the river.” The river close by, where they went swimming in summer.

“You mean like this?” Madara made sure to hold him secure before he stood and swayed him around like a boat at sea, turned and bounced him around softly. Kagami broke into giggles right next to Madara’s ear when he changed his hold without dropping him and pretended to prepare a throw. 

He shrieked, but bubbling laughter made even the pain of his fingers gripping tightly into Madara’s neck go away. “No, where am I supposed to land?” 

“I would never drop you on hard ground.” If he grinned, no one was there to see it but Kagami, as he opened the door to his bedroom and he started swaying him again, right before his bed, he let both of them fall onto the mattress controlled, but with a good bounce anyway. 

For some reason, Kagami always found it hilarious. “Again!” He only clawed himself more into Madara’s own bathrobe and wet hair. Izuna could probably hear him downstairs. Maybe even Tobirama, because Kagami was shrieking in delight. 

“Two more times and then we’ll dress. Don’t forget our guest, okay?”

He did as he had promised. He hauled Kagami and himself up and bounced him around a bit, turned him and then had them fall on soft fabric till all he could do was heave with glee.

And then they dressed. Madara handed him a fresh pair of trousers and underwear. 

He dressed himself, a bit faster and more efficient, so he could assist when Kagami lifted his arms. Technically he was able to dress himself completely, but Madara indulged him and helped him with his t-shirt and socks. “Should I come along to get your ship?”

Kagami shook his head and then hid his head inside the fresh pullover for longer than was necessary to put it on. Only a tuft of hair stuck out where his head was supposed to be until he finally pulled it on properly. “But can you wait for me?”

“I’ll meet you at the bottom of the stairs.” Madara said and with a last look Kagami vanished out of the door. Madara could hear him hurry along the hallway and hoped that he would not stumble in his excitement. 

Madara made it down the stairs, where he could already hear Tobirama’s voice but not what he was saying, before Kagami appeared at the top of the stairs.

Kagami was carrying a delicate, fifty centimetre long something and Madara grew actually worried he might fall. He would’ve asked him if he should help carry it, but Kagami seemed so proud and eager to finally present it himself that he did not dare. 

He was careful at least, as he stepped down step after step and even handed it over for a moment, but only to put on his slippers.

Madara followed him down the hallway.

Once inside the kitchen, they disrupted whatever topic Izuna and Tobirama had been discussing. They both sat at opposite sides of the kitchen table, sure, but to Madara's surprise, Izuna had actually given him a glass and water and the tension in the room had vanished. 

Kagami stopped in the doorframe. But as Izuna looked at him, Tobirama turned towards them too. 

A small nudge was all it took to have Kagami step forward slowly in front of Tobirama and he lifted his creation up for him to see like an offering at a shrine. He sought eye contact and didn’t even hide or twitch.

“I made this for you.” Kagami said and this time the voice swearing with disbelief was not in Madara’s head. It was Izuna, because Kagami actually broke into a smile (hesitant, but definitely heartfelt). “Do you like it?”

Tobirama, bless him, gently took the build from Kagami's struggling arms, glided out of his chair and crouched down so they could look at it together. “I really like the way you use colour-coding.” 

“Really?” Kagami beamed. 

“Yes, is green your favourite colour?” He had used a lot of green bricks, he always did, but it was really nice for Tobirama to notice.

Kagami nodded, then hid his flushed face and busied his fingers with twisting one of the wheels on the spaceships side. “Do you wanna build something too?”

Tobirama looked up to Madara. “Yes, but I can’t stay long. I have a little work to do at home and don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Kagami seemed to get the hint and turned to Madara too, eyes big and pleading. “Can he stay and build something with me, Mads? Please!”

“Ten minutes and then we wanted to go to the cemetery, okay?”

“Yay!” Kagami visibly vibrated with his happy face. He accidentally pulled off one of the spaceships antennas. 

“But bug, go and clean up your room a bit first. And turn on all the lights and draw the curtains. Wouldn’t want Tobirama stepping on Lego bricks, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Despite, Kagami lingered for a second, a bit torn and then tried to gently take back his Lego space ship, but Tobirama smiled at him and held onto it. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring it in a moment. You just go ahead and do as your brothers says.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” Kagami drew back his fingers and flushed, looked around and then, went past Madara, who stroked his hair, and out the door with a last look.

“Well, hit me with a stick and colour me fucking surprised. What the hell did I just witness?” Izuna hung in his chair like a man who had just had the revelation of his life. 

Madara ignored him, because Tobirama stood and still wrangled the build, so he went over to help him support one of the long wings. “Tobirama,” and only when he looked up did Madara smile and speak, “You don’t have to indulge him.” 

“Believe me, if I wouldn’t want to, I’d not have let him on like this.” A small tuck on his lips and a glint in his eyes. “He is a sweet child. I really don’t mind spending a little time with him.” 

“Well, it certainly does him good. He hasn’t been this open to an almost stranger adult in a while.”

“We shouldn’t let him wait then.”

Madara signalled him to follow and went towards the hallway, where he first turned on the lights, and then pushed aside Kagami’s carelessly flung slippers. In front of the stairs he stopped and turned to Tobirama, who was following. Tobirama made no indication that he was struggling with the Lego thing, so Madara didn’t ask.

Up the stairs and along the hallway, he made sure to turn lights on an as he knocked at Kagami’s doorframe and peaked inside. Kagami was still busy shovelling bricks from the floor into a designated box. 

He turned and then hurried over to take his build from Tobirama and carried it to place it on his desk, on top of school work.

And because Tobirama and Kagami hit it off straight away and did not seem to need any help, Madara told them to call in case they needed anything and went and hurried with preparing dinner and their impending trip to the graveyard. I really must trust Tobirama, he thought, to leave them alone like this. But he did, he trusted Tobirama despite all that had happened. 

Izuna was still lounging at the table, but offered to help when Madara started pulling out vegetables and pots. 

When he turned the corner, he could see Kagami and Tobirama kneeling on the floor and bend over something. They sat right on the edge of a big sea of colourful bricks. 

They had turned their backs to the door, so only Kagami heard his muffled steps and rose to bolt into his side. “Look Mads, we’re building a horse.” 

Tobirama looked up too and towards him, but Madara managed to urge Kagami more into the room to make it easier for Tobirama to see both their faces. 

Kagami honestly, truly smiled and shoved a Lego build against Madara’s chest. It was colourful, had four legs and something that could qualify as a tail. “Tobi says it is like a Tropical horses.”

“Trojan horses.” Tobirama corrected, a fond smile on his lips.

“Right. People can hide inside. See?” Kagami pulled open a door underneath where the horse’s belly would have been and a Lego manikin fell out.

Madara took it and turned it. “Mh, really nice. Why are there pistols instead of ears?” 

Kagami pouted. “Those are laser guns.”

Madara and Tobirama shared a glance and Tobirama smiled. “A lose interpretation of the original.”

“A lose interpretation indeed.” Madara said dryly. “Bug, Izuna and I are ready. We should go visit mom and dad.”

Kagami broke into an even bigger smile. “Oh okay.” Tobirama stood as Kagami went over and set the horse down in the middle of the mess, then looked up, still crouching on the floor and nervously sought Tobirama’s eyes. “Will you come over again?”

Tobirama glanced over to Madara with a small smile. “I hope so.” 

The smile Kagami gave him for that pulled on Madara’s heart strings. Especially, when he turned in his excitement and shuffled over to first hide against Madara’s stomach and then hug him tight. His curls, when Madara's fingers went in to comb through, was still a little damp. “Come on bug, Izuna will help you get ready.”

They went down the hallway, which was already not easy with a child latched onto his side, but at the stairs it became impossible. It was either loosen Kagami’s hold or carry him down, and Madara decided to pick him up like a sack of potatoes flung over his shoulder. 

Kagami laughed loud enough to sound close to breathless, his fingers held on to the back of Madara’s t-shirt, but Madara had a secure hold on his legs so he would not fall. With every step down his giggles grew louder, so Izuna was already alerted to their approach. 

To heave Kagami over and put him down on his feet was easy and he made sure to do it right before Izuna’s feet. “Can you get him ready? I’ll drive Tobirama home.” Both of them vanished with a muttered goodbye towards Madara’s office to laminate the last of Kagami’s paintings.

Madara and Tobirama were left alone, so Madara busied himself with the coatrack and got down both their jackets. “There is no need for you to drive me. I know my way from here.”

He turned to look at Tobirama. “I’d like to.” Madara added. “But I won’t force my niceties on you. If you don’t want to tell me your address, I can drop you at a street nearby too.”

At that, Tobirama huffed and took his jacket, “Fine, drive me home,” and put on his shoes.

When he returned, Izuna and Kagami sat clasped in jackets and boots, bags with snacks and paintings and flowers, in front of house and played rock-paper-scissors. The bikes stood ready too, so all Madara had to do was lock the car in the garage and shoulder the heaviest bag, before they left to visit their family’s graveside. 

After, Madara felt both, emotionally lighter and mentally drained. They had yet to find a consistent ritual for the hours after the visits, aside from Kagami’s mandatory apple-juice-box. 

Sometimes, they got pizza and watched movies huddled under blankets. Sometimes, Izuna went straight to bed and only emerged when it was time to cook dinner. Sometimes Kagami stuck to Madara the rest of the day. Sometimes he refused to be touched. Sometimes he talked about mama and papa, mom and dad, Saru and Koharu from school, Molly his school’s therapist or Theo his Friday’s therapist, the book he was reading, homework, trees, plants) and sometimes he stayed silent.

Either way, Madara had learned to take most days as they came. 

Today, Izuna made them oven potatoes and vegetables right after their return and it was Madara’s duty to wash the pans and pots after dinner. Kagami had left to search his bath-toy-collection and he had promised to finish the last of his homework. Izuna had wanted to work on a schoolproject, but only after five minutes of silence, he suddenly reappeared. 

Madara technically had his back turned to him, scrubbing away on a burnt pot, but it was dark outside and so the reflection in the window right before him was clear.

Izuna wore a complicated expression between displeasure and uneasiness, mixed with a nice twist of determination. Madara didn’t acknowledge him right away, because Izuna apparently wanted to say something but was still unsure how to trespass the topic.

Eventually, he began shuffling along the cabinets and seemingly searched for something until he turned and Madara felt his stare. “Sooooo…”

Only then Madara turned off the tap and straightened to look at him. “Yes?”

“You still want to go out with him.” It was obvious whom they were talking about and Madara had thought about it an awful lot since he had dropped Tobirama at his home. Yes, he wanted to go out with him, because there was a connection he could not deny. 

But… “I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable. And I need you to be honest with me on that.”

Izuna nodded, stared into a corner on the floor. “No… no, its fine. I guess.”

He didn’t sound so sure. “I’m not sure that I believe you.” 

Izuna visibly struggled, waved his hand, but most importantly hid his eyes and the slight tension in his lips. “I mean… he is apparently not a dick.” 

He said it as if that was horrible news. “He won’t become my bosom buddy, but I haven’t seen you this…” Izuna waved at him and pulled a face, “this excited,” he shivered as if the word was dirty somehow, “in a long while.”

Madara made sure to not show any of his joy, just so Izuna didn’t feel like there had been expectations on him. “Are you certain?”

“God, Mads, stop asking or I'll change my mind!” Izuna sounded really annoyed.

So Madara gave him a small, genuine smile. “OKay, we had lose plans to go out Friday night.”

“Okay. Fine.” Izuna scratched his eyebrows and hid his face effectively. “I’ll watch Kagami, so you’ll do… whatever.” 

“Thank you.”

Izuna cleared his throat. “I’ll have him sleep in my bed too.”

What a weird statement to come out of him just like this. Kagami slept in Izuna’s bed once a week or so anyway, it never really warranted verbal agreement. “Okay?”

Apparently Izuna had hoped for him to understand something, because he looked like he hated to explain whatever he was trying to say. “So should you come here, just don’t be too loud.”

And then things clicked. Madara himself felt his cheeks heat and his head shook automatically. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”

“I just wanted to offer…”

“No.” And he had to collect himself. This was not the right reaction. Definitely not the most adult way to deal with Izuna’s… bravery. 

Izuna, despite his flush, continued. “You can go to his place too, Kagami and I’ll manage a night alone at home. I’m not a child after all.”

Madara dried his hands and threw away the towel to go towards Izuna and take his shoulders to make sure and look him in the eyes. “I know, and that is why I know you’ll understand that I’m not going out with Tobirama for a fling, okay? Thank you though, I appreciate your acceptance.” 

Izuna looked away a bit uncomfortable, but he didn’t tense, so Madara stayed close. “Just make sure you’re on the same page.”

“I will.” This was... eerie and sweet. “I hope you don’t have to cancel any plans so I can date.”

“Toka and a couple of friends wanted to meet by the lake, but I wasn’t really feeling like freezing to death anyway.”

“Okay. You know, if you ever wanted to invite people here, I don’t mind. And you know I’d keep out of your way.”

Izuna shrugged. “Toka’s parents are often gone, so we’re always there I guess. But thanks, I’ll consider.”

“And she hasn’t got any annoying siblings?” Madara teased. He released his shoulders, but didn't go back to the sink and instead pulled out two chairs so they could sit. 

“Like you, you mean? No, her family isn’t exactly close either. Just like ours. Plenty of weird uncles and distant aunts, but no actual contact.”

Then Izuna grew silent, the he came closer, but didn't immediately take a seat. 

It took a lot of intense stares to get him to crack and Madara could almost see his resolve break, because Izuna's shoulders slumbed and his head fell back with a small groan. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Yes.” Madara answered and eventually Izuna sank against the chair's back. His cheeks were already flushed, whatever he was struggling to get out had him silent for long minutes.

His gaze was somewhere on the table top, running along the lines within the wood. “Toka and I haven’t… you know. We have tried… stuff, but…” 

He inhaled, exhaled, but tense. “I told you all of that already, but now she asked to try more and I’m not sure…” And finally he looked at Madara. “There should be nothing to it… there is this idea that girls should be the one- the one hesitating and… I don’t know.”

They talked about all sorts of things. For all that Izuna pretended to dislike `serious talks´ he often initiated them himself. Izuna used to crawl into his bed, just like Kagami did nowadays, to whisper to him about a secret. 

Izuna told him a lot. But seldom had Madara been as relieved for it as he was right now. “Izuna, you may not be a child, you’re not yet an adult too, but what I’m going to say is universal.” 

He made sure to look him in the eyes. “In a context as intimate as this, being unsure should always be a `no´. And that goes both ways. If you feel like your partner is unsure, you shouldn’t continue either. Unless you’re absolutely positive that you want to try something, you shouldn’t do it. It’s important to talk about it and you should stick your ground on that too.” 

For as long as he could remember, Madara had given him pieces of advice, yet seldom of this nature, but he gave his best to not show unease. “If she tries to talk you into anything or makes you doubt your reasoning or generally reacts negative, I’m sorry, but then she’s not the one and should get a serious talk from her parents, because that is manipulation and toxic and nothing a healthy relationship is made up of.”

Apparently Izuna’s feet were very interesting all of a sudden, because that was all Izuna could look at. “Yea, no, that’s not the problem. It’s just hard to talk about it in general, I guess. I just... thank you.” 

“With time it feels less like being vulnerable and more like honest self-protection. Just believe me when I say that it is absolute integral to have a good talk about it, otherwise everything can go a bit awry.”

And what Izuna asked him next was the thing that had Madara's mind truly wiped. 

Between strands of hair, Izuna glanced up to him, biting his lip and it made him look an aweful lot younger. “Do you think we can last? Toka and I.”

How was he supposed to answer that.

The bold reality was that most people did not stay with their first love. 

But there was a long list of reasons for that and as diverse as those were, just as different were the relationships that they applied to. Or not, Madara thought, because there were people who somehow worked. “You seem good together. I am not an expert on love or relationships.” That was the understatement of the year. Madara, who had had relationships, sure, but had never had the desire to stick with someone for long, was probably not the right person to council. 

All he knew was common-sense and the vivid image of their parents and the things they told him about their happy, sappy, loving marriage. “If one wants to be with someone for a long period of time you have to be prepared to adapt to more than one version of them. You are young, people change, characters develop. And there is no shame in realising that something will not work out.” 

None of this was what Izuna wanted to hear. He probably noticed the careful pondering that Madara was undertaking, so he exhaled and weight his words. “To answer your question, this is nothing in which you’re helplessly left for fate to roll its dice. Sure there needs to be a solid ground for a relationship to work, mutual attraction, interest, respect, other things too. But a strong relationship is not found, it is something that is built through good communication and an open mind. Both of which I think Toka and you have. ” 

“Thank you.” And even though Izuna was apparently really thankful and relieved, he was still his cheeky self. “That was surprisingly helpful for someone like you.”

“Brat.” But the smile, the tone, the way he laced his fingers through Izuna’s hair, all of it was drenched in fondness. And judging by Izuna’s smile and the way he came over from his chair and pressed himself close into a hug and unintentionally tickle Madara’s arms with strands of hair, Madara knew all, which was not said. “Any plans tonight?”

“Maybe. Might go to the cinema.” Izuna pulled away and went to the cupboard to look for a snack. 

“Tell me if you need a lift.” Madara threw the sink a glance and decided to finish the rest later. “I’ll go and give Kagami his bath.”

Kagami liked his baths warm and foamy. Madara bought him some special sort of bath foam for sensitive skin that was supposed to calm and relax and so it always smelled like lavender and white tea in the entire house when they used it. 

He played enthusiastically with his floating toys and either made up his own story, which he was very vocal about sharing with Madara, or they put on some kid’s audiobook. 

So surrounded by pastel purple foam, Kagami sat and narrated his small army of water toys while Madara sat close by and listened. 

To the balmy sound of Kagami's giggles, Madara opened his phone and send a text to Tobirama. `Izuna gave me his blessing. Friday night still stands?´

He was carefully shampooing Kagami's curls as the answering chime rang from the other side of the room. Once he had dried and clasped him in a towle and dried his own hands, he through a look at the display. `Friday night stands. I look forward to it.´

Right after Izuna had left for school on Friday morning, the home telephone rang. 

Kagami was sitting on the stairs, swaying with his feet and looking at a book he had found a liking in, because of the illustrated pictures by the text, and peaked up. Madara had helped him dress in jacket, boots and backpack and had been about to tie his own shoes, but he went back to the landline and through a glance at the screen.

It was Kagami’s school and so he answered. “Good morning.”

“Good morning Mr. Uchiha,” It was the social worker and she sounded really relieved to get him on the phone, “we’re really sorry, but it may be best for Kagami to stay home today. We forgot to notify you that there will be workers cutting trees and hedges all day and they brought trucks, red flashing lights and saws so...”

“Thank you for calling.” Madara turned and glanced down the hallway, but Kagami was already immersed in the story again. 

“Sorry again for such a short notice. I hope this won’t cause any inconveniences.”

Oh, it definitely did, but that was his problem to sort out, because no chance in hell would he send Kagami to school when there was something that could trigger a flashback.

They were exchanging goodbyes but Madara heard nothing of that, because he was already panicking. He had another three hours until he had to be on campus to write his exam, but he wouldn’t be able to bring Kagami of course. 

There was just a handful of people Kagami would even stand to be around on his own for several hours and all of them were not available on a Friday noon. 

And Izuna was at school and would be at his psychologist after that. 

Their neighbours were at work, obviously. 

No, not all. There was one that came to his mind that could possibly be free and Kagami tolerated. 

Madara sighed and rubbed his own face, but got a hold on his nerves before he reached Kagami and crouched down in front of him. “Bug, you can undress again. School is cancelled today.”

He looked up and was seemingly surprised. “Oh, why?”

“There will be a lot of loud noise and blinking lights, because they are cutting the dangerous tree branches.”

Kagami’s lowered his head again, but instead of the pages, he looked at his fingers. “Oh.”

He looked so much smaller like this. Clasped in his oversize darkblue jacket and big bag on his back. 

Madara gently took his wrist and stopped his fingers from tearing his nails in by sheer accident. “Hey, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

He glanced up briefly. The pages between his fingers creased slightly with his fiddling fingers. “Is it bad that I miss so much school?”

Oh, maybe somebody had said something to him. Madara knew that there were parents or students or teachers that made comments and not really thought about their impact. Even if they didn’t mean to scold, Kagami was just so sensitive when it came to negative energy. 

Gently, Madara took the book from between his hands and placed it on the stairs next to him. “No, absolutely not. Never when it is to benefit your health.” 

Kagami did look up at his words, but he didn’t seem convinced. His eyes were still withdrawn, skittering away with eyecontact and there was still so much tension in his body. But it was also he who reached out to be lifted and carried away and Madara did so without a second thought. 

While he was trying to take off his shoes, which was difficult with the way Kagami had wrapped around him, something came to mind. “You know I used to miss a couple days a month because of migraines. It might feel bad to not be a part of something, but it is more important to be gentle with yourself. Your body and your mind.” 

Madara had to reposition him to open his jacket and take it off and in that process their gazes met and so he gave him a smile. “Some people cannot take part in sport lessons because they broke a leg. You cannot take part on certain days because your mind is a little hurt still. That is the same concept, only different reasons, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Madara sighed. “Okay. I will have to leave later for a short while, because of an exam, so would you be alright if I asked Tobirama to spend a little time with you until I’m back?”

He left the shoes and the jacket by the stairs for now and carried Kagami to the kitchen.

A conflicted mix of emotions played over his face. Madara could see that he was elated at the idea to meet Tobirama again, but to have him leave and be left alone with someone he did not know well was probably terrifying in general. “How long will you be gone?”

“From 11 am till 3 pm. So four hours.”

He felt him hum against his throat, so Kagami had heard him. 

Madara got out a pot and milk, chocolate drops too and Kagami’s favourite mug, all of which with only one hand. 

He felt a little bad. Maybe he was not sensitive enough, maybe he was unintentionally pressuring Kagami into acceptance, but this was a difficult situation to be in and Kagami had liked Tobirama. Maybe it was the right time to be brave and help Kagami grow a little out of his shell again. “I’ll have to call him and ask anyway. Maybe he hasn’t got time, but would it be alright for you? You can say `no´ if it makes you uncomfortable. I can ask my professors to re-sit the exam.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay, as in, I can ask him?”

“Yes.”

“If you change your mind, you can tell me, alright?” 

Kagami nodded, but did not say anything else. Madara set up the pot and the milk first. Then he got his phone to dial Tobirama’s number. 

Kagami peaked up and Madara gave Kagami a small smile.

Tobirama answered after the second ring, but then Kagami hid his face at his shoulder. “Good morning, Madara.” 

“Morning, I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“No, I was just brewing coffee. You sound stressed, did something happen?” The noise of a coffee machine stopped abruptly, so Tobirama had probably turned it off or left the room to hear him better. “Is this where you cancel our date tonight?” 

Madara could hear him smile over the line, he thought about tease him back for a second, but decided against it. “No, Kagami and I are in the kitchen and I just wanted to call to ask you something.” 

“You’re certainly making me curious.”

“Kagami’s school just called and it would be best for him to stay home today.” Madara sighed. “But I still have an exam later today. I am very much aware that this it’s not something to ask someone before the first real date, but traditional is not really what we were doing so far anyway.” 

Tobirama made an acknowledging, amused sound and Madara’s heart warmed. “You are currently his favourite stranger and I could think of no one else that could possibly have time on a Friday noon. I mean, I was planning on paying for dinner anyway, but if I can win you over with some freshly baked cookies and chocolate milk…”

Tobirama laughed and Madara had a vivid image of him. “Okay, when do you need me to come over?”

“You don’t have to, by the way.”

“But I certainly don’t mind. And not even I can withstand a good treat.”

“Okay, well… maybe it would be good for Kagami to get used to you in our house while I’m still here. You can come over whenever it suits you.”

“I’d say I’ll transfer my coffee into a travel mug and head over.” The sound of a cabinet in the background startled Madara for a second. “I will be there in twenty minutes or so.”

“Thank you.” Madara turned, Kagami’s head still resting against his own and they looked out into the garden. It was not sunny, but it was not raining either. “I will see you then. Take care.”

Kagami eventually felt lively enough to hop out of his arms and Madara had him get juice from the pantry. Chocolate was stirred into milk, three mugs were filled and a fourth too, because they had some extra.

Madara went to the freezer and got out some of the rest of raw cookie dough Izuna had left from his last baking extravaganza. He helped Kagami with washing his hands and handed him a blunt child-save knife. 

Traditional chocolate chip cookies might have been round, but that was not how they did it in the Uchiha household. Kagami cut of some dough and smashed it between his hands. “Can I form a snow man?”

“Sure bug.” Madara threw him a quick look, then turned to turn on the oven. “Just make sure to make them even in thickness, okay?”

Kagami went at it with enthusiasm, babbling about Torifu and Koharu, while Madara cleaned the kitchen. 

“This one is for you.” Kagami proclaimed and Madara turned to him and his small alley of funky dough.

Madara pointed at one cookie that looked like a carnivorous plant. “This one?”

“No that’s a fish.” Kagami shook his head and grinned up at him. “It’s for Izu, because he liked swimming in grannies pond so much.” Their grandmother with the koi pond had been dead for three years or so, but on more than one occasion Izuna had come into contact with her fish, voluntary and involuntary. 

“This one is for you.” Kagami lifted one that looked like a destroyed toilette. 

Madara was not one to discourage him in his endeavour. “Nice, why is this one for me?” 

“It is a dragon with lots of fire.” He wiggled the dough through the air and made sounds that put any respectable dragon he had probably seen on TV to shame. “And this is your hair.” Kagami pointed at another spiky shaped dough, before he put the cookie on the pan and smoothed its edges.

When the doorbell rang, Kagami kneeled before the oven and watched the cookies rise and brown, but when Madara went to open the door, he followed and hovered in the background, glancing around the corner from the kitchen down the hallway. 

Tobirama’s hair was slightly ruffled by the wind and drizzling rain, and instead of his contacts, he was wearing his glasses, a smile on his lips and a bag over one shoulder. “Hello.”

Madara would have liked to stare at him longer, but it was windy and rainy outside, so he stepped aside and let him in. Water ran down his shoes and along his jacket. “God, your soaked. Maybe I should get you a change of clothes?” 

“If you have something to spare in my size, I’d be glad.”

He turned to Kagami. “Bug, can you get him a towel and a pair of slippers? I’ll be back in a sec.”

Kagami nodded, a bit shy still, but he wrapped out of his blanket and shuffled over to their coat cabinet to fetch guest slippers, and then to the guest bathroom to get a towel. 

And Madara went to his room to get a pair of trousers and a t-shirt, a pair of socks and a pullover. 

Downstairs, Tobirama had made his way to the bathroom, already free of his drenched jacket that was hung over the radiator and his shoes underneath. 

Tobirama was trying to towel his hair. Decidedly, Madara ignored the way his white t-shirt sat snug against his apparently well-build torso. 

“You should’ve called, I would’ve picked you up.” Madara said and it sounded more like a scold than he had intended. “Here, if you want fresh briefs too I can get you some, but I figured that would be too weird.”

Tobirama lowered the towel, but gave him a lopsided smirk. “Thank you.”

“Right. Enjoy… the dry clothes, I guess.” Madara cleared his throat, before he stared at Tobirama and his very revealing wet shirt and after an embarrassing long pause decided to step back and out the door where Kagami was standing, awaiting. 

Tobirama was surprisingly quick. 

Kagami and Madara had only managed to put on the kettle, take out the cookies and ready mugs and teabags before a soft knock on the doorframe alerted them to Tobirama’s presence at the door.

“I’d like to tumble dry my clothes, if that’s possible.” Madara’s sweatpants were a little too short, the t-shirt and pullover a little too tight, but Tobirama made it work.

“Sure. I’ll take care of it.” Madara volunteered and took the carefully folded stack of wet cloth from Tobirama. 

He looked back over his shoulder and Kagami seemed a bit wide eyed and lost at being left alone with Tobirama so suddenly, but Madara decided that they would be fine. 

He hurried nonetheless. But the drier was filled with something else and he had to stop it, then take out the other laundry and locate an empty clothing-line to hang them real quick, before he could even put in Tobirama’s things on a quick-dry-program.

He should not have worried. 

When he returned, Kagami and Tobirama stood in front of the glassdoor to the backyard, chocolate milk cups in hand, and Kagami described all the small details that were probably too far away for Tobirama to see. It was incredibly sweet.

Madara showed him the house and all its relevant features. 

Then they ate cookies and talked a bit.

The drier finished after half an hour and Tobirama could dress in his own clothes again.

But eventually, Madara had to leave.

They had his emergency number. Tobirama knew the building and even the room he would be in.

Madara hoped that they would be alright. He pulled Kagami close, gave him a chaste kiss on top of his locks and something he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Enjoy your time.”

He gave Tobirama a look, who flashed him a smile. 

Madara didn’t say anything, but he threw another glance towards Kagami to make his hesitance obvious. Before he could even say something, Tobirama pitched in. “We’ll manage.”

They would be alright. He had to trust. “Okay. Thank you.” But to take his bag, turn and pull open the door was still hard. “I’ll see you later.”

And then he left.

Right up until the last possible moment, Madara kept glancing at his phone, just to make sure that Tobirama hadn’t texted him. He was allowed to keep his phone on and in vibration mode, but visible on the table for his professor to see. 

But then the paper was distributed and his exam started. There was little time to worry about anything, but the horrendous amount of questions to get through.

To finally let go of his pen and handing in the paper, it felt like a stone lifted from his chest and the wave of warmth to replace the cold stress as he closed the door of the examination hall behind himself. His fingers still shivered from the tension, but he pulled out his phone and turned it on regardless. 

Izuna had send him a couple of funny pictures, nothing important. What got his attention was Tobirama’s message. `I hope everything went to your satisfaction.´

Madara stepped out of the building into the cool drizzle and slight wind. 

He was about to type his reply when he was surprised by a loud call for his name. As he looked up, he saw Kagami on a tree branch. The branch was shoulderhigh up in the air and Madara’s heart made a frightful jump, but Tobirama’s had a hand on his back and supported Kagami even as he waved at him with his excited smile over the crowd.

Madara steered towards them and put his phone away. Kagami made an attempt to jump down, but the floor was muddy, so Tobirama shifted and took him as if he weighted nothing to set him down more controlled. 

Kagami slipped more than walked to greet him and grabbed his waist and held onto it like a vice. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug.” The locks that stuck out from his hat were a little damp when Madara stroked through them, probably the slight drizzle, but Tobirama had dressed him in rain boots, coat and with a hat, so he was well protected from the weather. 

Madara looked up and gave Tobirama a thankful smile laced in apology. “Thank you, truly. I hope everything was alright.”

“Everything was good. I hope you don't mind that we came to greet you. I made sure to lock the house properly.” Tobirama handed him the spare key they usually kept at home. “We made lasagne, it should be enough for Izuna and you too.”

Madara laughed awkwardly. “Thank you.” They fell into step, side by side and towards Tobirama's apartment. 

They stopped in front of the apartment house. Kagami had parted from them and was collecting chestnuts from the sidewalk. His jacket’s pockets were already spilling over, but he still tried to fit in more. 

Tobirama sought his gaze. “So will I see you tonight?”

“I hoped so.”

His smile got a little broader. “Good. I would suggest the `Fish’s Cellar´. They have good food, drinks and a pleasantly silent terrace overlooking the river.” 

“What time?” 

The wind came sideways, but at least the drizzle had stopped. Tobirama cocked his head in consideration. “Before it get's to dark. Let's say 6?”

“Okay, I'm looking forward to it.”

“Me too.” Tobirama held his gaze, a small smile crept up, but he eventually nodded and evdaded to look over to Kagami who had started using the hood of his jacket to store chestnuts in. “Kagami.” 

Kagami flinched, let go of a few nuts he had had in his hands still, but was only shocked until he'd looked up and saw both of them smile at him. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh, okay.” Kagami scrambled to a stand and raised his hand, but was still a bit stiff and unsure. “Bye Tobirama.”

Tobirama gave him a last nod and focused back on Madara. “I'll see you tonight. Thank you for accompanying me home.”

Madara helped Kagami carry his loot, but the entire way home, the boy didn't stop ranting about Tobirama. And Madara frankly didn't care, because his thoughts were focused on Tobirama aswell. 

They met right in front of the bar while the sun was still up, but the lightbulbs strung over the terrace in the back were already lit. Most people were inside, actually sitting at the bar or crammed into nooks and so the spot Tobirama steered towards was nice and quiet, right by the railing overlooking the water. 

Their table was surprisingly well-lit by a strung of lightbulbs above and Tobirama chose the seat which overlooked the terrace at least partially and left him with his back to a bush.

It was not cold. The walk here from his home had warmed Madara that he had even taken off his jacket and although there was a bit of wind as was expected near water, the lasting rays of sun were still warm enough. 

“Do they serve outside or should I go in and order something for us at the bar?” Madara asked.

Tobirama corrected the fit of his glasses and smiled at him with a gesture to sit down. “Someone will come, although it usually takes a second.”

Madara complied and found the cushions more comfortable than they looked. The view was nice too. A good protion of the riverbank sidewalk he could overlook and the people that walked alongside in small groups or pairs, laughing and talking, enjoying the early evening and the setting sun. Grass and trees, lanterns and benches stretched between the two bridges that connected the two halves of Konoha.

Despite the enticing view, he turned his eyes to Tobirama again, because for him, the scenery was probably nothing more than beautiful colours mixed into a misty blur. “This is really nice, do you come here often?”

Tobirama seemed at ease, slightly leaned back in his chair and an easy smile on his lips. “I have a handful of places I regularly go to. The fish here is good and it makes ordering easier when I know the menu. As I said, I read, but when the font is small, it needs more focus and I don’t particularly enjoy that.” 

He slid a cardboard menu over to Madara, presumably to have him look for something he’d like. 

Madara threw it open and glanced over the pages which listed mostly drinks. A couple of good sounding dishes were listed too, but nothing stood out to him immediatly, so he glanced up. “Is there anything you can recommend?”

“I usually take the braised cutlassfish and a pint of their homebrewed beer.”

Madara flipped the pages closed before he pushed the menu away with a smirk. “I guess I’ll have the same. You mentioned your well-honed taste so let’s put that to a test.”

“Oh my, how to cope with this pressure.” Tobirama deadpanned, but his own smile only widened. “So tell me, how did the exam go?”

“I felt decently prepared and was not disappointed. Although,” Madara lifted his right hand and slowly rotated his wrist’s joint, “my wrist hurts like a bitch. I think I mentioned that our exams are designed to allow very little time for thinking and force you to write very fast, otherwise you’ll just not make it.”

“You explained that.”

“All things taken into consideration, it went as well as it could have. I’ll just have to wait and see whether it was good enough.” 

The waitress came and Tobirama gesticulated for Madara to order first, which he did.

Only once the girl had vanished back into the main building, Madara cleared his throat. “So, any plans for the weekend?”

“I’ll go to the `Kunais, bows and arrows´ concert tomorrow night.” And it was a snort that followed that, Tobirama was obviously amused to have answered that himself.

Madara raised a brow and stared at him. “Izuna usually plays their songs when he wants to annoy me. They are… quite explicit. I would not have thought that that’s the sort of music you listen to.” 

At that Tobirama gave an acknowlediging sigh. “I don’t, Kawarama does. It was his birthday present and I promised to accompany him.” 

Now he felt his mouth tuck into a teasing grin. “At least you have the choice to not listen to them.”

But Tobirama just gave him a flat look and a sigh. “Oh, my brother made sure to call the venue and get us front floor tickets right by the sign language interpreter. At least I’ll have something within my seeing range aside flickering lights and sweaty armpits.”

Madara actually laughed out loud. “Endearing. Did you at least get a hefty discount?”

Tobirama’s smile told him all the answers he needed to have. 

Their drinks came and alongside a tray of salty snacks, mini pretzels and roasted nuts, sesame sticks and some sort of cracker. 

Madara lifted his pint and Tobirama did the same, then they toasted and took a sip. It was good. Cold and just the right bitterness to make it taste refreshing, and Madara made an appreciative sound. 

Tobirama's fingers lingered at the rim of his glass, running his index along the smoothed edge. “Well, you speak like you have more interesting endeavours planned for tomorrow.”

“Aside from learning?” 

“Hm.”

The wind grew stronger, managed to get under his pullover and make him shiver so he closed his jacket. “My brothers and I’ll go to the city, buy a few things. Books, Lego, new shoes for Kagami. Kids really grow as fast as weed.” 

Tobirama, attentive as ever, mustered him and reached for something on a nearby chair. A blanket and he offered it to Madara, who took it, but simply placed it on his lap for now.

The sun was setting fast, the light coming in from the side and drawing long shadows across the river, but not were they sat. Fully drenched in the last remaining rays of direct sunlight, Tobirama closed on of his eyes and squinted the other, but made no other sign of discomfort. “I can recommend the new Suna Bestseller `Under Sun and Over the Hills´. An autobiography of the late Kazekage’s wife. It is a clever and thoughtful read. Especially an intriguing inside into the more scientific machinery behind their political system.”

A quick glance at his glass, before Tobirama picked it up to drink a bit more. “But you probably had something in mind to pick out already.”

“I wanted to get a specific textbook, but I’ll give it a try if you talk about it so warmly.” 

His phone chimed and Madara pulled it out and threw a glance at the display, but it was just Izuna who send him a photo of Kagami, perched on a stool and trying to roll a sushiroll with his small hands. 

Madara huffed a laugh and turned the display to show Tobirama right as another message popped in that had Tobirama raise his brows in amusement. “Your brother is quite something.”

A look at the message and Madara’s cheeks heated. `No need for you to come home tonight. XOXO´

He replied with a flip-off emoji and closed his phone again. “You know, Izuna used to wear two different socks every day. And he made sure to roll up his trousers so everyone could see.”

“Your brother has a fondness for dramatics.” Tobirama took a long sip, not evading his eyes and Madara struggled to focus under that intense contact. 

“He has always been mischief incarnate.” And it brought back so many memories, some of which hurt and Madara was not sure whether now was a decent time to mention his dead brothers. 

But this was Tobirama, he reminded himself. Tobirama who had been nothing, but understanding and unproblematic so far, so he sighed and took a long sip of bravery. “When Toga was still alive, they were horrible together. They weren’t twins, but close enough in age and looks to confuse people, so they sometimes switched clothes and pretended to be each other for a day.”

Tobirama didn’t waver, he didn’t look uncomfortable or tried to give any unwelcome remark, so Madara continued. “They deliberately hid the toilette paper under the sink. Or exchanged salt and sugar. Or coffee creamer and diluted mayonnaise. Until my parents took in Kagami, Izuna was the youngest so maybe we all spoiled him a bit.”

It was a first sign of surprise in Tobirama's face, a lifted brow and a tilt of his head. “Tell me if my questions are unwelcome, but Kagami is not your biological brother?”

“No, he is our cousin. After his parents passed, we didn’t think twice to care for him as one of our own.” 

“I take it you are the oldest?”

Madara just gave an affirmative nod.

“What are your brothers’ names?” Present. Warm tingles shivered down Madara's spine, because it had been ages since anyone had talked to him about his brothers in anything but painful past. Even though they were still his brothers. They had still names and character. 

“Myo was five years younger than me, he was just about to finish school. Kuro was about to turn seventeen. Toga had just turned sixteen and Izuna fifteen.” He considered not showing him a picture, but it seemed silly. There was nothing he had to fear, Madara reminded himself.

So he turned his phone and unlocked the display to search through the files and eventually turned it so Tobirama could lean over and have a better look. 

And he broke into laughter right as Tobirama’s mouth pulled into a small smirk, because it was a great picture. 

Kagami was on the left and in chronological order they stood next to each other with Madara on the far right. Just a second before the picture was taken, they had been told that their summer holiday at the beach was cancelled and all of them wore expressions of appropriate disappointment mixed in with the fretful annoyance to have a picture taken at all. 

Tobirama slid the phone back towards him. “You’re lined up like the pipes of a panpipe.”

Madara threw him an unimpressed stare. “Just like you and your brothers.”

Tobirama sighed deeply and took a long sip, leaned back in his chair and stared at the sky that had just turned dark blue. “That is not the only similarity. All my brothers are eccentric in their own ways, but my older brother has a rather interesting character.” He looked back down. “And I used to share an apartment with him for about two years.” 

“Eventful, I can tell.”

Tobirama smirked and nodded slowly. “Well, he has plenty of stories to tell too.” 

“Care to share?”

“I take my hearing aids out overnight.” Tobirama explained. “At gatherings, in vivid detail, which I will spare you, Hashirama tends to describe what special kind of horror it is to sit on the toilette at night and realise that the toilette paper is empty, when the only person in the household cannot hear his call for help.”

Madara laughed. “I assume that was not his only reason to move out?”

“No, he wanted to move in with his girlfriend. Although, I have to admit, I threw him out. He thought just because I was not able to hear Mito and him have sex at night without my aids, I could not feel the vibrations when his bedroom was right next to mine.” 

Madara made a clear sound of distasted and a facial expression to match and Tobirama’s grin widened. “Indeed.” 

“I struggle to connect the brother you talk about to the young up-and-coming diplomate I read about in the news. At least I assumed that the Hashirama you talk about is the Hashirama Senju about to rise like a gilded chandelier.”

Tobirama closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “Yes, you are correct.” 

“Oh my, so much pride.” Madara deadpanned.

“I worry about him as much as he worries about me, and although Hashirama has innate sociability and crude charisma, he otherwise has the discretion of a young foal.” 

“He tends to rant?” It was more an educated guess, less anything that Tobirama had explicitly told him, but Tobirama gave him a clear nod.

“As a last resort, I used to turn off my hearing aids to avoid his speeches. He used to complain that I was more selectively deaf than hard of hearing.”

Again he huffed a laugh. “By the way, how to you even decipher Izuna’s handwriting? Even I can read only half of his chicken-scratch on a good day.”

“I don’t. All the tests and exams are send to Mrs. Hussel.” And lips already at the rim of his glass, eyes glinting at him, Tobirama gave him a smirk. Then he took a long sip and visibly swallowed.

And Madara's heart stumbled.

Tobirama’s hair was a little dishevelled, his cheeks flushed with the warmth of half a pint, leaning forward onto the table under the light of several warm lightbulbs and mustering Madara with that intense look. 

Madara had sort of known, but now seated under a gradually darkening sky with nothing but an array of lightbulbs to illuminate his white hair into reds and oranges, Madara felt his heart beat faster. 

Maybe it was the alcohol or it was just his own briskness, but blurted it out. “These glasses really suit you. I don't know why you forwent your contacts, but... it's nice.”

And he clenched his jaw shut to not mumble anything else that had the potential to embaress him.

“You also look better when I wear them.” For that, Madara was staring at Tobirama with a blank expression, because that did not make sense for a second and Tobirama tilted his head and smirked. “They definitely make you less pixelated.”

Madara flushed. “Shut up.”

“Chakra? So you do yoga.”

Madara stared at him and when Tobirama broke into laughter, he couldn’t help but laugh with him. It hadn't even been that funny. Horrible actually, but if there was anything addicting it was to see Tobirama open and relaxed, comfortable and amused, grinning openly at him.

And the realisation came, even though it had sort of lurked under his skin for a while.

Tobirama was the most engaging and refreshing person he had ever met, and he had never been as attracted to anyone as he was to him.

There was just nothing that seemed amiss about him. It all slotted into the picture of a person comfortable enough in his skin to not pretend to be anyone but. 

Madara was unsure how to not stare at him. And Madara wanted to watch him laugh like that longer.

And in a way he could, because Tobirama kept watching him with a small smile and heated gaze that was not entirely due to the warmth of the sinking sun. 

It was dark when they stepped out of the bar onto the sidewalk. The night had grown colder, the wind more brisky, but they laughed when they leaned against the wall of the building to stare at one another. 

As if they hadn't done that for hourse already.

Parts of the street were illuminated by streetlamps, but Tobirama smiled at Madara, unabashed and direct. “I hope you don’t mind walking me home.”

He was decidedly only a little drunk, despite the whiskey they had just finished the night on, but Madara had never been a lightweight and Tobirama apparently could hold his liquore too. But there was a buzz of pleasant warmth and lowered barriers if the bright smile he felt on his own face was anything to go by. “No, I don’t. I also wouldn’t mind taking a little detour.”

“Mh, I assume you mean along the riverbank.”

“Over the Northbridge and along the other side of the river. The view is good, the lights from the business district are nice to watch.” 

A group, laughing and loud young adults, stepped out of the pub behind them and Tobirama stepped a little closer and leaned in. He almost purred into Madara’s ear. “Then we have two options. I get out my cane or you allow me to take your arm and keep me from drowning.”

It was definitely the alcohol that had Madara not even rethink the way he offered him his hand and Tobirama laughed and put his hand on Madara’s shoulder instead. “I feel more secure like this.”

Madara nodded, maybe a bit embaressed, but he pressed himself away from the wall and Tobirama followed his lead as they strolled away from the bar and towards a set of stairs that led through greenery towards the river sidewalk. Tobirama stayed half a step behind him, probably to take Madara's movement as an idication for what was to come.

The wind howled around them. The lights of the city reflected on the disturbed water's surface. Few people were around, only in the far distance, Madara could hear the muted sound of music and laughter. 

“Narrate for me.” Tobirama interupted his thoughts, voice closer than expected and a huff of warm breath against his ear along with it. “All I can see are four flickering lights and a handful of streetlanterns.”

It took Madara embaressingly long to clear his throat and turn towards him while trying to walk. “Will you even understand me while walking?”

“It is quiet enough to give it a try. Aside, the tone of your voice alone is better than complete silence alongside this darkness.”

Madara nodded and then realised that Tobirama couldn't see that and probably couldn't feel it either, so he cleared his throat. “Those lights you see are the letters visible from the Hokage tower.” Then he took a moment to take in their surrounding. “We are close to the Northbridge, only a minute or so until we reach the stairs. The sky is actually quit clear, which is why it is freezing, but I can see a couple of stars.” Tobirama made an appreciative sound, so Madara continued. “Someone rented a boat and is throwing a party. I don't know if you can hear the music, mostly bass, but it is annoying.”

And so they continued. Up the stairs and onto the bridge, only a couple of cars passed them as they made their way across.

It truly was a detour. To get to Tobirama's house took them another hour, but Madara felt more alert, energised too. 

In front of Tobirama’s house, under a street light with a strong beam was where they stopped and turned to each other. Tobirama’s hand left his shoulder, but only to glide down and for a second, Madara was sure he would take his hand, but his fingers stopped at the first slither of skin at Madara’s wrist. His digits were cold against the warm skin right above Madara's arteries. 

Tobirama gifted him a small smile. “Wednesday or Thursday night I wanted to go see the premier of `Pandemic´. Maybe you’d like to come along.”

He wanted to confirm, but couldn't hold back on a comment first. “Aren’t they already booked out?”

“For hard of hearing people and their company, a few seats are reserved in subtitled screenings.” 

“Okay.” Under Tobirama’s intense eyes, he wanted to evade to hide his giddy flush, but he didn’t want to make understanding harder, so Madara kept their eye contact. “Would you like to come over Sunday night? My brothers wanted to grill and have a bonfire for the last time this year before the weather turns.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Autumn was already in full swing and they had been graced with a couple of nice days in the last weeks. But the forecast from next week on spoke more of gloomy rain and cooling nights.

Not that it wasn’t already cool. Fresh wind had rustled his own hair and felt icy on his already cold fingers.

But the skin were Tobirama’s hand had slipped from his shoulder down to his wrist felt impossibly sensitive and warm in contrast. 

Madara looked up into Tobirama’s eyes again, heated even further by the golden light of the street lantern above, dragged even more into the limelight by the black frame of his glasses. The red glistened, but his pupil was blown wide and suddenly Madara’s tongue felt heavy, his throat thick and he swallowed hard around nothing but fresh air.

Tobirama’s gaze began to roam, took in every little detail of his expression and he must have noticed something, because he stepped closer, his free hand going to Madara’s waist, his other hand moving upwards again. 

Up, up his arm till the fingers came to rest at the back of Madara’s head that had been protected from the cold by thick locks of hair and only now began to shiver, when Tobirama's long and icy fingers made contact. 

Tobirama was still smiling, but his eyes were serious without pretense. “Don’t be alarmed when eyes move erratic. It can happen when I’m aroused.” 

What.

Madara’s eyes widened and he croaked in surprise. “What?”

“I’m not having a seizure or avoiding eye contact. That is an involuntary movement called Nystagmus.” 

Madara nearly stumbled over his words in exasperation. “And you thought the best moment to tell me was now?” 

Tobirama broke into a laugh, a soft low sound filled with warmth and crinkled his eyes. “I’m telling you now, because it is relevant and maybe even more in a few seconds.”

Even if Madara had wanted to add something, his brain was wiped, because Tobirama leaned down towards him until his forehead rested against his. 

Their noses brushed, their misty breaths combined, Madara’s eyes flickered between those rosy lips and deep red eyes that mustered him still. Not unsure, but careful, fond and awaiting, for him to react. 

An offer, but left to him to acknowledge, Madara realised. Warmth radiated from Tobirama, so strong, Madara could feel himself growing warmer too.

His own hands felt heavy, mechanical in their movement when they finally got a hold of Tobirama’s jacket, shifted them along his sides to his back and pulled himself closer to bridge the last gap between their lips.

A chaste touch first, but then it was easy to step even closer, to mingle their legs and run his hands underneath Tobirama’s jacket to feel the heat of his back beneath. 

Even easier to let himself be pulled into a more cunning kiss. Relishing, heated, firm despite an underlying softness. 

How he didn’t nudge Tobirama’s glasses, Madara was not sure.

Tobirama’s lips tasted like whiskey, the one they just had before they left, and salty minipretzels. His tongue felt heavy against Madara’s. The sting of teeth actually provoked a low hum from him. One hand circled around his waist, the other firm in its hold, fingers carding through the soft hair at his nape, pulling and twisting absentmindedly.

The palm in contact with Tobirama’s back felt damper already, but was unrelenting it its pull to get him closer. 

Ages, Centuries could have passed before they pulled away, Madara’s sense of time was swept along a gentle warmth running havoc in his body. Tobirama didn’t go far, far enough to open their eyes and look at one another with heated breaths.

The prickling phantom sensation of pressure and movement still burnt under the skin of his lips. Especially because Tobirama’s were deeper in their colour, tentalising, inviting, slightly open still and so close. 

And so he leaned in again, unable to suppress the urge (and really, why should he, when Tobirama was so obviously in favour as well). 

Now he was the one to tuck for an almost chaste, innocent touch. A slow, savouring movement and it felt so much more intimate, because he made sure to keep his eyes open, glancing up from under his lashes and Tobirama did the same. 

He could feel the minor tremors in Tobirama’s jaw that spoke of more, the clean scent of his cloths and a very plesant shampoo or parfume or deodorant, not overpowered by the smell of alcohol and then controlled roll of his fingers, finally warmed by Madara’s hair and heated nape.

When Madara leaned back and lifted his hand to cup Tobirama’s face, the skin of his cheek was hot under Madara’s thumb, flushed and rosy. And there it was, the small tremour in his eyes, horizontally twitching, and Madara broke into a wide smile, pressed another small kiss against his lips and couldn't hold back a teasing glance. “I would ask you to be allowed in for a coffee, but it is late and I really want to get home to check on my brothers.”

But Tobirama only gave him the satisfaction of a shaky eyeroll and a gentle pull at the hair at his nape. “We are not in a rush.” 

Madara had his hand fall, but Tobirama’s caught it and their eyes fell down to look were their fingers were intertwined. “More than a fling would be nice. I maybe should have been more upfront, but I'm looking for something stable, more permanent.” 

“Good.” His smile actually widened further. “I am not interested in wasting time with a relationship destined to fail anyway.”

Silence. Not heavy, but electrified, loaded with giddy tension. Madara himself was not shy, had never been insecure in a romantic context. But the way he glanced up from underneath hair that was about to fall in his eyes, he felt frantic hope in his heart. Not enough to make him uneasy, but enough to make him aware that this was different. “So I will see you Sunday night?”

“Yes. And you should text me if there is anything I can bring.” 

“Like?”

He smiled so softly. “I inherited my grandmother’s potato salad recipe. I think you would like it too.” 

“If you feel like cooking, sure. Otherwise, just enjoy the concert tomorrow night.”

“Thank you, I’ll send you a small videoclip.” His eyes glinted with the tease.

“Please spare me the headache.” 

Tobirama cocked his head in amusement, but the way he laughed was genuine and warm. “As you wish. Goodnight Madara.” He leaned in and kissed Madara’s cheek. 

“You too.” Madara drew back his hand, stepped back half a step to bring more distance between them and the only contact left between them were their still intertwined fingers. “Goodnight.”

Tobirama gave him a last small smile, then drew him in with his hand for a last quick peck, before he truly released him and turned to walk towards the front door. 

Madara stayed, frozen to the spot, till Tobirama's keys rattled and the door opened. Tobirama held onto the doorknob, turned and waved at him. “Get home safe. Sleep well.”

“I will. Sleep well Tobirama.”

And then the door closed and the only sounds left were the rusteling leaves and the howling wind. Madara's face split into a wide grin, warm excitement rushed through him and when his steps were longer and just shy of bouncing, he knew, he was in head over heels already.

This. He would try and make it last.

~~~~~~ Bonus ~~~~~~

“Why exactly did Senju want to speak to us right now?” Ginkaku asked and kicked an empty chocolate bar wrapper. “Doesn’t he know that lunch only lasts an hour?”

“He said it was urgent and to get you too.” Zetsu said and tipped his can back further to get the last drop of cola from the inside.

“Bullshit. You’re just playing.” Kinkaku tried to give Kaguya a hit on the head, but she evaded. 

“Shut up, we’re there.” Zetsu threw the can after Kinkaku, but missed and hit a younger student’s eye instead before it rolled down the hallway. All of the laughed, while the other student stood frozen in shock and pain.

Kinkaku pulled open the door to the chemistry lab and looked around cautiously. The room was shaded, save for a desk lamp and a beamer. Senju sat behind his desk, working on his laptop. “Mr. Senju? You asked for us?”

He looked up and waved them in. “Ah, close the door. I have something to tell you.”

They shuffled in and closed the door on Senju’s insistence. He stood and had them sit on four chairs in front of the wall they viewed all the beamer projections from. “I wanted to ask for your opinion on something.”

Ginkaku whispered. “With the enormous stick up his arse, I bet he wants to know how to get his cock wet.” The others snickered. They apparently didn’t even care whether Senju heard them.

He just send them a long, calculating look, pressed a button and the beamer rolled. 

And all of them froze.

“So, please, give me your expertise on how to behave like an asshole, because I’m not sure I’m on your level of morbidity.” The controller clattered onto the table as Tobirama released it and his eyes stared at them like iron. There was no understanding or softness in them as the videos and pictures continued to play behind him on the wall. 

Pictures they had taken of gravestones and put online.

Their own laugh haloed through the silence of the room.

Even Senju’s voice sounded icy. “Care to explain?”

“Sir…” “It’s not as…” “It wasn’t” “How did you…” 

All of them started their line of excuses at the same time, but Tobirama lifted a hand and stared them down with a booming voice. “Enough. You will speak orderly and clear. Do you understand me?”

They were stunt, unable to say anything. It was Kaguya who eventually gulped and blurted. “We didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It was just a joke.”

Senju stood unrelenting, his gaze never left them once. “Well, you see, I don’t understand the punch line, so explain it to me. What exactly is supposed to be funny about defiling the graves of boys that bled out after a horrible accident and used to be taught in this room just like you.”

Zetsu stuttered. “It’s not really like they are there… anymore. Those were just stones with their names…”

Tobirama disrupted them with the quick snap of his wrist. “And their decomposing bodies beneath, but continue.”

Kinkaku swallowed around nothing, his throat was suddenly very dry. “We were just joking! Really, none of it was meant to be mean!”

Ginkaku almost interrupted him. “Yeah, how could we have known that Izuna would make such a scene?” 

For all the warmth red usually portrayed, Senju’s eyes were cold in their stare. “What do you consider `not mean´ about laughing at a grave of his brothers only to film it and send it to other students.” 

Senju waited to give them the chance to explain themselves further, but no one attempted to speak, so he came even closer, spine straight, shoulders back and they had to lean back to be able and muster his face. “You’re not explaining, you are justifying and to be honest, it is not working in your favour.” 

Kinkaku opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He glanced over to Zetsu and Ginkaku, both stunned and pale, frozen and just as lost for words. 

Tobirama Senju huffed in disdain. “Mh, maybe we should ask for additional input.” 

The door flew open and backlit by the hallway’s light stood a man. Tall, broad (the tight t-shirt spanned over his shoulders and chest, leaving no doubt about the strength they held), with a massive mane of hair and a body language that spelt predator in big fat letters. 

And behind him, the headmistress, two police officers, a social worker and their parents. 

They would not get out of this without dire consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter is finished, I can hardly believe it! 
> 
> I mean, I have a couple of ideas for small sequels already, but no promises.
> 
> If there is anything you'd like to see, tell me! I'm open for suggestions.
> 
> Thank you to all the people that left kudos and/or commented! You guys really gave the story life. I write for enjoyment, but to have my writing reflected by someone and talk about it really makes all the difference in motivation!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Was this satisfying for you to read???

**Author's Note:**

> Even if it's just one word, it is highly motivational to receive featback.
> 
> So, if you liked this, please consider leaving a kudo or a comment:)


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